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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
scant
degree
Of
life's
penurious
round;
My
little
circuit
would
have
shamed
This
new
circumference,
have
blamed
The
homelier
time
behind.
I
should
have
been
too
saved,
I
see,
Too
rescued;
fear
too
dim
to
me
That
I
could
spell
the
prayer
I
knew
so
perfect
yesterday,
—
That
scalding
one,
"Sabachthani,"
Recited
fluent
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
justify,
—
The
palm
without
the
Calvary;
So,
Saviour,
crucify.
Defeat
whets
victory,
they
say;
The
reefs
in
old
Gethsemane
Endear
the
shore
beyond.
'T
is
beggars
banquets
best
define;
'T
is
thirsting
vitalizes
wine,
—
Faith
faints
to
understand.
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Poemas de Emily Dickinson, Tres Series, Completo — C2 Inglés | Cuentana