We never know how high we are (1176)

We never know how high we are (1176)

by Emily Dickinson (1830-1886)

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—