 | Poems by Emily Dickinson |  |
197
[XV. Their height in heaven comforts not]
Their height in heaven comforts not,
Their glory nought to me;
'T was best imperfect, as it was;
I'm finite, I can't see.
Their glory nought to me;
'T was 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 glimmering frontier
That skirts the acres of perhaps,
To me shows insecure.
The wealth I had contented me;
If 't was a meaner size,
Then I had counted it until
It pleased my narrow eyes
If 't was a meaner size,
Then I had counted it until
It pleased my narrow eyes
Better than larger values,
However true their show;
This timid life of evidence
Keeps pleading, “I don't know.”
However true their show;
This timid life of evidence
Keeps pleading, “I don't know.”
| Poems by Emily Dickinson | |