Emily Dickinson

(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886 / Amherst / Massachusetts)

We See&Mdash;Comparatively - Poem by Emily Dickinson


We see—Comparatively—
The Thing so towering high
We could not grasp its segment

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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Read poems about / on: loss

Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003

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