Author Emily Dickinson 979 This Merit hath the worst— It cannot be again— When Fate hath taunted last And thrown Her furthest Stone— The Maimed may pause, and breathe, And glance securely round— The Deer attracts no further Than it resists—the Hound— Tags fate Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments