Emily Dickinson (1830–86). Complete Poems. 1924. |
Part One: Life
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| 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 | 5 |
| The homelier time behind. | |
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| 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,— | 10 |
| That scalding one, “Sabachthani,” | |
| Recited fluent here. | |
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| Earth would have been too much, I see, | |
| And heaven not enough for me; | |
| I should have had the joy | 15 |
| Without the fear to justify,— | |
| The palm without the Calvary; | |
| So, Saviour, crucify. | |
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| Defeat whets victory, they say; | |
| The reefs in old Gethsemane | 20 |
| Endear the shore beyond. | |
| ’T is beggars banquets best define; | |
| ’T is thirsting vitalizes wine,— | |
| Faith faints to understand. | |
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