A Wounded Deer-leaps highest

A Wounded Deer-leaps highest

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A Wounded Deer-leaps highestI've
heard the Hunter tell'
Tis 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 Cautious Arm,
Lest anybody spy the blood
And "you're hurt" exclaim!