Poems by Emily Dickinson Part 5

XI.

THE OUTLET.

My river runs to thee: Blue sea, wilt welcome me?

My river waits reply.

Oh sea, look graciously!

I'll fetch thee brooks From spotted nooks, --

Say, sea, Take me!

XII.

IN VAIN.

I cannot live with you, It would be life, And life is over there Behind the shelf

The s.e.xton 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.

They'd judge us -- how?

For you served Heaven, you know, Or sought to; I could not,

Because you saturated sight, And I had no more eyes For sordid excellence As Paradise.

And were you lost, I would be, Though my name Rang loudest On the heavenly fame.

And were you saved, And I condemned to be Where you were not, That self were h.e.l.l to me.

So we must keep apart, You there, I here, With just the door ajar That oceans are, And prayer, And that pale sustenance, Despair!

XIII.

RENUNCIATION.

There came a day at summer's full Entirely for me; I thought that such were for the saints, Where revelations be.

The sun, as common, went abroad, The flowers, accustomed, blew, As if no soul the solstice pa.s.sed That maketh all things new.

The time was scarce profaned by speech; The symbol of a word Was needless, as at sacrament The wardrobe of our Lord.

Each was to each the sealed church, Permitted to commune this time, Lest we too awkward show At supper of the Lamb.

The hours slid fast, as hours will, Clutched tight by greedy hands; So faces on two decks look back, Bound to opposing lands.

And so, when all the time had failed, Without external sound, Each bound the other's crucifix, We gave no other bond.

Sufficient troth that we shall rise -- Deposed, at length, the grave -- To that new marriage, justified Through Calvaries of Love!

XIV.

LOVE'S BAPTISM.

I'm ceded, I've stopped being theirs; The name they dropped upon my face With water, in the country church, Is finished using now, And they can put it with my dolls, My childhood, and the string of spools I've finished threading too.

Baptized before without the choice, But this time consciously, of grace Unto supremest name, Called to my full, the crescent dropped, Existence's whole arc filled up With one small diadem.

My second rank, too small the first, Crowned, crowing on my father's breast, A half unconscious queen; But this time, adequate, erect, With will to choose or to reject.

And I choose -- just a throne.

XV.

RESURRECTION.

'T was a long parting, but the time For interview had come; Before the judgment-seat of G.o.d, The last and second time

These fleshless lovers met, A heaven in a gaze, A heaven of heavens, the privilege Of one another's eyes.

No lifetime set on them, Apparelled as the new Unborn, except they had beheld, Born everlasting now.

Was bridal e'er like this?

A paradise, the host, And cherubim and seraphim The most familiar guest.