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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 4, Poema 24
XXIV.
TOO
MUCH.
I
would
have
been
too
happy,
I
see,
Too
high
for
the
small
life
Of
little
things;
My
small
world
would
have
felt
bad
In
this
new
big
world,
have
blamed
The
simple
time
before.
I
would
have
been
too
saved,
I
see,
Too
safe;
fear
too
far
from
me
That
I
could
say
the
prayer
I
knew
so
well
yesterday,
—
That
hot
one,
"Sabachthani,"
Said
easily
here.
Earth
would
have
been
too
much,
I
see,
And
heaven
not
enough
for
me;
I
would
have
had
the
joy
Without
the
fear
to
explain,
—
The
reward
without
the
pain;
So,
Saviour,
crucify.
Loss
makes
victory
sweet,
they
say;
The
rocks
in
old
Gethsemane
Make
the
shore
nice.
Beggars'
feasts
show
best;
Thirst
makes
wine
sweet,
—
Faith
faints
to
understand.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — A1 Inglés | Cuentana