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.