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
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
© Emily Dickinson