Emily Dickinson

Life XXIV. Whether my bark went down at sea (52)

Part One: Life

 
                    XXIV
 
WHETHER my bark went down at sea,
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
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