165
A Wounded Deer — leaps highest
I've heard the Hunter tell
'Tis but the Ecstasy of d**h
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!