I Saw A Tract Of Ocean Locked In-Land Within A Field'S Embrace-- The Very Sea! Afar It Fled The Strand And Gave The Seasons Chase, And Met The Night Alone, The Tempest Spanned, Saw Sunrise Face To Face. O Poet, More Than Ocean, Lonelier! In Inaccessible Rest And Storm Remote, Thou, Sea Of Thoughts, Dost Stir, Scattered Through East To West,-- Now, While Thou Closest With The Kiss Of Her Who Locks Thee To Her Breast.