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Exultation is the going
Of an inland soul to sea,
Past the houses—past the headlands—
Into deep Eternity—
Bred as we, among the mountains,
Can the sailor understand
The divine intoxication
Of the first league out from land?
More verses by Emily Dickinson
- Empty My Heart, Of Thee
- Bloom Upon The Mountain—stated
- Bound&Mdash;A Trouble
- Finite—to Fail, But Infinite To Venture
- Between My Country—and The Others