Poems by Emily Dickinson: A wounded deer leaps highest

Updated May 6, 2020 | Infoplease Staff
by Emily Dickinson
Almost!
IX

VIII

A wounded deer leaps highest,
I've heard the hunter tell;
'T is but the ecstasy of death,
And then the brake is still.
The smitten rock that gushes,
The trampled steel that springs;
A cheek is always redder
Just where the hectic stings!
Mirth is the mail of anguish,
In which it cautions arm,
Lest anybody spy the blood
And "You're hurt" exclaim!
 
.com/texts/literature/poems-1-dickenson/Life/poem8.html
.com/t/lit/dickinson/1/chapter1/8.html
Sources +