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This—is the land—the Sunset washes—
These—are the Banks of the Yellow Sea—
Where it rose—or whither it rushes—
These—are the Western Mystery!
Night after Night
Her purple traffic
Strews the landing with Opal Bales—
Merchantmen—poise upon Horizons—
Dip—and vanish like Orioles!
This—is The Land—the Sunset Washes
Emily Dickinson
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Poem topics: purple, rose, sea, sunset, mystery, yellow, night, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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