Maxioms by Emily Dickinson
A wounded deer leaps highest,
I've heard the hunter tell;
'Tis but the ecstasy of death,
And then the brake read more
A 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 mail of anguish,
In which its cautious arm
Lest anybody spy the blood
And, you're hurt exclaim.
A little Madness in the Spring
Is wholesome even for the King.
A little Madness in the Spring
Is wholesome even for the King.
Where thou art, that is home.
Where thou art, that is home.
