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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo
Colección 5, Poema 24
XXIV.
TOO
MUCH.
I
should
have
been
too
glad,
I
see,
Too
lifted
for
the
small
amount
Of
life's
limited
round;
My
small
circle
would
have
shamed
This
new
size,
have
blamed
The
simpler
time
before.
I
should
have
been
too
saved,
I
see,
Too
rescued;
fear
too
faint
to
me
That
I
could
say
the
prayer
I
knew
so
well
yesterday—
That
burning
one,
"Sabachthani,"
Said
easily
here.
Earth
would
have
been
too
much,
I
see,
And
heaven
not
enough
for
me;
I
should
have
had
the
joy
Without
the
fear
to
explain—
The
reward
without
the
struggle;
So,
Saviour,
crucify.
Defeat
sharpens
victory,
they
say;
The
reefs
in
old
Gethsemane
Make
the
shore
beyond
sweeter.
It's
beggars'
feasts
best
define;
It's
thirst
making
wine
precious—
Faith
struggles
to
understand.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — B1 Inglés | Cuentana