165 <br /> <br />A Wounded Deer—leaps highest— <br />I've heard the Hunter tell— <br />'Tis but the Ecstasy of death— <br />And then the Brake is still! <br /> <br />The Smitten Rock that gushes! <br />The trampled Steel that springs! <br />A Cheek is always redder <br />Just where the Hectic stings! <br /> <br />Mirth is the Mail of Anguish <br />In which it Cautious Arm, <br />Lest anybody spy the blood <br />And "you're hurt" exclaim!<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-wounded-deer-mdash-leaps-highest/
