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Poems by Emily Dickinson: XXVI

by EmilyDickinson
Dying
The Chariot

XXVI

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.
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