Author Ralph Waldo Emerson The coil of space the cones of light Starry orbits Where they end, begin & enlarge And the worlds of God Are a dot on its marge Ah waste & ocean, fold on fold, And doubled ever more by Thought Which nothing bounds which all can hold 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