letters from dickinson to bowles
To Samuel Bowles
I can't explain it, Mr. Bowles.
Two swimmers wrestled on the spar
Until the morning sun,
Whe one turned, smiling, to the land -
Oh 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!
thomas johnson's note on letter 219 | index
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