Emily Dickinson (1830–86).  Complete Poems.  1924.

Part Three: Love

XLV

I ’VE got an arrow here;
  Loving the hand that sent it,
I the dart revere.
  
Fell, they will say, in “skirmish”!
  Vanquished, my soul will know,         
By but a simple arrow
  Sped by an archer’s bow.