Author Emily Dickinson 284 The Drop, that wrestles in the Sea— Forgets her own locality— As I—toward Thee— She knows herself an incense small— Yet small—she sighs—if All—is All— How larger—be? The Ocean—smiles—at her Conceit— But she, forgetting Amphitrite— Pleads—"Me"? Tags ocean sea smile Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments