Emily Dickinson- I Cannot Live With You


I cannot live with you,

It would be life,

And life is over there

Behind the shelf


The sexton keeps the key to,

Putting up Our life, his porcelain,

Like a cup

Discarded of the housewife,

Quaint or broken;

A newer Sevres pleases,

Old ones crack.

I could not die with you,

For one must wait

To shut the other’s gaze down,

You could not.

And I, could I stand by

And see you freeze,

Without my right of frost,

Death’s privilege?

Nor could I rise with you,

Because your face

Would put out Jesus’.

That new grace

Glow plain and foreign

On my homesick eye,

Except that you, than he

Shone closer by.



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