Poems by Emily Dickinson, Third Series Papyras Classics

← Poems by Emily Dickinson, Third Series

Chapter 8

XIV. Aspiration

We never know how high we are
Till we are called to rise;
And then, if we are true to plan,
Our statures touch the skies.

The heroism we recite
Would be a daily thing,
Did not ourselves the cubits warp
For fear to be a king.