Author George Meredith Open horizons round, O mounting mind, to scenes unsung, Wherein shall walk a lusty Time: Our Earth is young; Of measure without bound; Infinite are the heights to climb, The depths to sound. Tags Short Poems 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