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Poems by Emily Dickinson | ||
38
[XXIV. Whether my bark went down at sea,]
Whether my bark went down at sea,
Whether she met with gales,
Whether to isles enchanted
She bent her docile sails;
Whether she met with gales,
Whether to isles enchanted
She bent her docile sails;
By what mystic mooring
She is held to-day,—
This is the errand of the eye
Out upon the bay.
She is held to-day,—
This is the errand of the eye
Out upon the bay.
Poems by Emily Dickinson | ||