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313 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 Savior—Crucify— Defeat—whets Victory—they say— The Reefs—in old Gethsemane— Endear the Coast—beyond! 'Tis Beggars—Banquets—can define— 'Tis Parching—vitalizes Wine— "Faith" bleats—to understand!
Added: 19 Aug 2002 | Last Read: 7 Jun 2025 5:42 PM | Viewed: 7912 times
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Emily Dickinson
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