Emily Dickinson - We see—Comparatively (534) lyrics

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