Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

* * *

Two swimmers wrestled on the spar
Until the morning sun,
When one turned smiling to the land.
O God, the other one!

The stray ships passing spied a face
Upon the waters borne,
With eyes in death still begging raised,
And hands beseeching thrown.

1. There Is a Shame of Nobleness
2. Till the End
3. Morns Like These We Parted
4. I Read My Sentence Steadily
5. The Battle-Field

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