< Page:Emily Dickinson Poems - second series (1891).djvu
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48
POEMS.
XXV.
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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