Page:Emily Dickinson Poems - second series (1891).djvu/58

XXIV.

TOO MUCH. {| align="center" style="padding-left: 2em;" 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.
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