565 <br /> <br />One Anguish—in a Crowd— <br />A Minor thing—it sounds— <br />And yet, unto the single Doe <br />Attempted of the Hounds <br /> <br />'Tis Terror as consummate <br />As Legions of Alarm <br />Did leap, full flanked, upon the Host— <br />'Tis Units—make the Swarm— <br /> <br />A Small Leech—on the Vitals— <br />The sliver, in the Lung— <br />The Bung out—of an Artery— <br />Are scarce accounted—Harms— <br /> <br />Yet might—by relation <br />To that Repealless thing— <br />A Being—impotent to end— <br />When once it has begun—<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/one-anguish-in-a-crowd/
