Читать книгу The Complete Poetry of Emily Dickinson - Эмили Дикинсон - Страница 315

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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.