Poem by Emily Elizabeth Dickinson

* * *

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—

1. Our Journey Had Advanced
2. We Learned the Whole of Love
3. Doom is the House without the Door
4. I Send Two Sunsets
5. Should You but Fail at — Sea

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