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It tossed—and tossed
Emily Dickinson
723 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—stept— 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—
