Emily Dickinson

We See Comparatively

poem 534

We see Comparatively The Thing so towering high We could not grasp its segment Unaided Yesterday This Morning’s finer Verdict Makes scarcely worth the toil A furrow Our Cordillera Our Apennine a Knoll Perhaps ’tis kindly done us The Anguish and the loss The wrenching for His Firmament The Thing belonged to us To spare these Striding Spirits Some Morning of Chagrin The waking in a Gnat’s embrace Our Giants further on

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