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Emily Dickinson · Poems

Poem 140 of 446 · Second Series: Life

Shipwreck

— ✻ —

It tossed and tossed, -- A little brig I knew, -- O'ertook by blast, It spun and spun, And groped delirious, for morn.

It slipped and slipped, As one that drunken stepped; Its white foot tripped, Then dropped from sight.

Ah, brig, good-night To crew and you; The ocean's heart too smooth, too blue, To break for you.

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