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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SYNCOPATED CAKEWALK by CLARENCE MAJOR CONTRA MORTEM: THE WOMAN by HAYDEN CARRUTH BEAUTY THAT IS NEVER OLD by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON THE WORD OF AN ENGINEER by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON ON THE PROPOSAL TO ERECT A MONUMENT IN ENGLAND TO LORD BYRON by EMMA LAZARUS UNWANTED MEMORY by CLARENCE MAJOR OCTAVES: 16 by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON |