A wounded deer leaps... «Selected Poems»
defer2 марта 2019A wounded deer leaps highest, I’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!
1 понравилось71
