Their Height in Heaven comforts not —
Their Glory — nought to me —
‘Twas best imperfect — as it was —
I’m finite — I can’t see —
The House of Supposition —
The Glimmering Frontier that
Skirts the Acres of Perhaps —
To Me — shows insecure —
The Wealth I had — contented me —
If ’twas a meaner size —
Then I had counted it until
It pleased my narrow Eyes —
Better than larger values —
That show however true —
This timid life of Evidence
Keeps pleading — “I don’t know.”
(Emily Dickinson)
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