LIFE
Tenderly took it up from toilAnd carried it to God.There,—sandals for the barefoot;There,—gathered from the gales,Do the blue havens by the handLead the wandering sails.
L
I SHOULD have been too glad, I see,Too lifted for the scant degree Of life’s penurious round;My little circuit would have shamedThis 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 prayerI 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 joyWithout the fear to justify,—The palm without the Calvary; So, Saviour, crucify.
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