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Emily Dickinson's Collected Poems

Part One: Life 51. It tossed and tossed

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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