We never know how high we are
by Emily Dickinson (1830–1886) English
We never know how high we are
Till we are asked to rise
And then if we are true to plan
Our statures touch the skies —
The Heroism we recite
Would be a normal thing
Did not ourselves the Cubits warp
For fear to be a King —
Source: Wikisource
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Because I could not stop for Death—
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There is a pain — so utter —
It swallows substance up —
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A charm invests a face
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There came a Wind like a Bugle —
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