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I cannot live with You Summary & Analysis
by Emily Dickinson

I cannot live with You Summary & Analysis
by Emily Dickinson

  • Intro
  • Summary
  • Themes
  • Line-by-Line
    Explanations
  • Symbols
  • Poetic
    Devices
  • Vocabulary &
    References
  • Form, Meter, &
    Rhyme Scheme
  • Speaker
  • Setting
  • Context
  • Resources
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The Full Text of “I cannot live with You –”

1I cannot live with You –

2It would be Life –

3And Life is over there –

4Behind the Shelf

5The Sexton keeps the key to –

6Putting up

7Our Life – his Porcelain –

8Like a Cup –

9Discarded of the Housewife –

10Quaint – or Broke –

11A newer Sevres pleases –

12Old Ones crack –

13I could not die – with You –

14For One must wait

15To shut the Other's Gaze down –

16You – could not –

17And I  – Could I stand by

18And see You – freeze –

19Without my Right of Frost –

20Death's privilege?

21Nor could I rise – with You –

22Because Your Face

23Would put out Jesus' –

24That New Grace

25Glow plain – and foreign

26On my homesick eye –

27Except that You than He

28Shone closer by –

29They'd judge Us – How –

30For You – served Heaven – You know,

31Or sought to –

32I could not –

33Because You saturated sight –

34And I had no more eyes

35For sordid excellence

36As Paradise

37And were You lost, I would be –

38Though my name

39Rang loudest

40On the Heavenly fame –

41And were You – saved –

42And I – condemned to be

43Where You were not

44That self – were Hell to me –

45So we must meet apart –

46You there – I – here –

47With just the Door ajar

48That Oceans are – and Prayer –

49And that White Sustenance –

50Despair –

  • “I cannot live with You –” Introduction

    • "I cannot live with You" is one of American poet Emily Dickinson's longest poems—and perhaps one of her most tormented. The poem's speaker tells a beloved that they "cannot live" together, not because their love is insufficient, but because it's overpowering. The thought of sitting beside this beloved's death bed (or worse, being separated from them in the afterlife) is simply too much for the speaker to bear; they'd rather endure the "Despair" of parting now than face those trials later. Like most of Dickinson's poems, this one wasn't discovered until after her death. It was first printed in the posthumous collection Poems (1890).

  • “I cannot live with You –” Summary

    • I can't live with you because living with you would mean being fully alive, and life is something that exists elsewhere. It's over there behind the shelf that the churchyard keeper locks up; he puts away our lives as if they were his dishes.

      Our lives are like a china cup that a housewife throws out because it's too old-fashioned or because it's broken. She'd prefer some fancy new French china; old cups just crack.

      I couldn't possibly die with you, because one of us would have to watch while the other's eyes closed for the last time. You couldn't do that.

      And what about me? Could I stand there and watch you die without wanting to claim my own right to die in that same moment?

      I couldn't be resurrected with you on Judgment Day, either, because I'd prefer your face to Christ's.

      Jesus's glorious visage would look dull and unfamiliar to my lovelorn eyes; I could only be happy if you were there, nearer to me than he was.

      How would the heavens judge us? You were faithful to your religion, or tried to be. I couldn't be so faithful.

      That's because your lovely face filled up my eyes. I didn't have any room left over to look at such a cheap pleasure as Heaven.

      And if you were sent to Hell, I'd be in Hell too, even if all the heavens praised me as the greatest person who ever was.

      And if you were sent to Heaven, and I to Hell (where you wouldn't be), it would be my own lonely self that would be my Hell.

      Therefore, the two of us can only meet at a distance: you over there, and I over here, with only an open door between us: an open door made of distant oceans, and prayers, and that pale, blank nourishment: hopelessness.

  • “I cannot live with You –” Themes

    • Theme The Agony of Impossible Love

      The Agony of Impossible Love

      Emily Dickinson’s “I cannot live with You” is a tormented exploration of what it means to love someone you can’t be with. The speaker’s long explanation of why they “cannot live with” their beloved suggests that, in reality, there’s nothing in Heaven or earth they want more. Alas, for reasons the poem only hints at, there’s just no way the two can be together—an unendurably painful predicament. Impossible love, the poem suggests, can feel like Hell itself.

      The poem’s speaker adores their beloved so much that the mere sight of their face is everything to them: the beloved’s beauty “saturate[s]” the speaker’s “Sight,” filling up their eyes until they can see nothing else. In fact, the speaker is certain that they worship their beloved even more than they worship their God. On Judgment Day, they imagine, they wouldn’t be satisfied to gaze into the face of “Jesus” himself; they’d find that divine image “plain” if their beloved’s face “shone closer by.”

      Unexpectedly, the speaker gives this overwhelming adoration as a reason they can’t be with their beloved, not as a reason they must be. Their love is so powerful, they explain, that if it were consummated in marriage, it must one day transform into soul-destroying pain. First, one lover would have to watch the other die eventually (which they “could not” endure). Then, they’d have to risk of being separated in the afterlife (perhaps because their romantic love displaced their love of God!). That, too, would be unendurable: the speaker knows that even “Heavenly” joy would be “Hell to [them]” if their beloved weren’t with them.

      The trouble here, of course, is that the speaker seems likely to go on feeling this way about their beloved whether or not the couple live together and marry. It would only be reasonable to marry anyway and at least get some joy out of life. But something in their circumstances makes this impossible. The speaker resignedly observes that the possibility of a “Life” with their beloved is “over there,” out of reach, hidden away like a churchwarden’s “Porcelain” in a cupboard. This tidy, civilized metaphor suggests that fate or social convention prevents the couple from being together. The idea of marriage, for reasons the speaker doesn’t reveal, has to be “put[] up,” locked away like the good china.

      The poem thus centers on a tragic irony. The speaker explains that the future pain of separation is the reason the couple couldn’t possibly be together—but the pain of separation is exactly what they’re suffering right now. Unfulfilled love, this poem suggests, is an unspeakable torment, leaving “Despair” in its wake.

    • Theme Fear, Avoidance, and Isolation

      Fear, Avoidance, and Isolation

      This poem’s speaker argument that they can’t possibly be with their beloved might be a lament about a love that convention or fate makes impossible. On the other hand, it could reveal a deep fear that holds the speaker back. As the speaker observes, love inevitably comes with grief: even the most adoring married couple will have to say goodbye to each other on a deathbed someday. The speaker might thus be trying to dodge the agony of eventual separation by resisting a relationship now. Anxiously avoiding the inevitable pain of love, in this reading of the poem, means holding the fullness of “Life” and joy at bay, too.

      To live with their beloved, the poem’s speaker says, would mean being fully alive, relishing the joy of being with a person whom they adore more than “Jesus” himself. But such a “Life,” they lament, is “over there,” out of reach to them. That’s because they’re sure that, if they were married, neither they nor their beloved could possibly “shut the Other’s Gaze down”—that is, watch while the other one died, as one day they would have to. If speaker had to do that, they fear, they’d want to claim their “Right of Frost,” committing suicide so that they could fall into icy death at exactly the same time as their beloved.

      Even if the pair died at the very same moment, the speaker frets, their problems wouldn’t be over. There’s no guarantee that they could be together in the afterlife, either in “Paradise” or “Hell”! Indeed, the speaker even feels frightened that their adoration for their beloved, having “saturated” them to the point that they no longer have room to love God, might be the very thing that will keep the couple from spending eternity together. All of these imagined fates, the speaker concludes, mean they simply “cannot live” with their beloved. The inevitable separation of death—and the possibility of separation after death—is too scary for the speaker to contemplate.

      Powerful love, in this speaker’s view, is thus better “put up,” locked away, than embraced and consummated. But there’s an irony here: by anxiously resisting entering a relationship now, the speaker has to undergo the very “Despair” of separation they fear, without enjoying any of the pleasures of living with the person they love most. There’s no escaping love, this poem suggests, and there’s thus no escaping the pain of love; fearing and avoiding a relationship can’t save the speaker from their intense feelings.

    • Theme Love vs. Religion

      Love vs. Religion

      Explaining why they “cannot live with” their beloved, the poem’s speaker observes that their adoration for this person has driven their Christian faith right out of their mind. Even Jesus’s face itself, the speaker fears, would pale in comparison to their beloved’s. Romantic love, this poem suggests, is so terrifyingly powerful that it can reorganize a lover’s most fundamental principles and beliefs, perhaps even endangering their souls.

      One of the biggest reasons the speaker feels they can’t marry their beloved is that they “could not” go on being a faithful Christian if they did so. Imagining the Apocalypse (when, according to Christian tradition, all souls will rise from the grave and face God), the speaker feels certain that even the face of Christ himself would seem “plain – and foreign” next to their beloved’s. In other words, they find their beloved’s beauty so overpowering that their beloved has taken the place of God as the best thing they can imagine. The beloved has “saturated” the speaker’s “Sight,” filling them up until there’s no room for anything as “sordid” (or cheap, paltry, and lowly) as “Paradise.”

      For that matter, the speaker feels their beloved’s presence has become “Paradise” to them—so much so that, if they were sent to Heaven but their beloved couldn’t come with them, they feel they’d be just as “lost” as if they’d been sent to Hell. If things went the other way and the speaker went to Hell alone, “condemned to be / Where You were not,” the separation would be worse than any infernal torment.

      The speaker thus rejects love in favor of their religion, not because Christianity has the stronger claim on their heart and mind, but because it’s dangerously weaker than their earthly love! Intense romantic love, in this poem, can conquer a person so completely that even the fate of their own soul seems insignificant by comparison.

  • Line-by-Line Explanation & Analysis of “I cannot live with You –”

    • Lines 1-5

      I cannot live with You –
      It would be Life –
      And Life is over there –
      Behind the Shelf
      The Sexton keeps the key to –

      The first lines of this, one of Emily Dickinson's longest poems, are full of confused emotion. The speaker turns down a romantic proposal, not because they don't love the person in question, but because they love them too much. "I cannot live with You," the speaker tells this person, because "It would be Life –".

      These first lines suggest that there's something both simple and overpowering about the speaker's love for the person they're speaking to. To live with them would mean nothing more nor less than life itself.

      But the speaker doesn't feel they have access to life; life is something that's perpetually "over there" for them. If that's the case, they must be living something that isn't quite a life now—and, as the polyptoton on "live" and "life" points out, they expect to go on living that half-life in the future, without the beloved they "cannot live with." In other words, the speaker can't live with their beloved, and can't live without them! They're stuck in an awful limbo.

      They get at the feeling of this choked-off predicament with an image of a tidy "Sexton"—a churchwarden, especially one in charge of a graveyard. This fellow, who raises shadows of both pious propriety and death, has a locked "Shelf," and "keeps the key" himself. The life the speaker and their beloved could live together isn't just locked up in that shelf, but "Behind" it, as if it's fallen down the back. One way or another, this life is out of reach and out of bounds.

      The poem's shape mirrors the speaker's dilemma. These first few lines use an odd, jolting rhythm, alternating lines of iambic trimeter (that is, lines of three iambs, metrical feet with a da-DUM rhythm, as in "Behind") and iambic dimeter (lines of just two iambs). Listen to the first two lines:

      I can- | not live | with You –
      It would | be Life –

      Readers who are familiar with sonnets or Shakespeare might find that this unusual meter feels oddly familiar: if these two lines were fused, they'd make one line of good old iambic pentameter (five iambs in a row, as in "I would | you were | as I | would have | you be"). Fittingly enough, it's as if a line from an old love poem has been lopped in two.

      Similarly, notice the confusion in the poem's very shape here. The "Sexton" who keeps the keys to the "Shelf" only appears at the beginning of the next stanza. As readers will soon see, the way this poem uses enjambments that cross stanzas and line breaks means that there's more than one way to interpret these first words.

    • Lines 6-12

      Putting up
      Our Life – his Porcelain –
      Like a Cup –
      Discarded of the Housewife –
      Quaint – or Broke –
      A newer Sevres pleases –
      Old Ones crack –

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    • Lines 13-16

      I could not die – with You –
      For One must wait
      To shut the Other's Gaze down –
      You – could not –

    • Lines 17-20

      And I  – Could I stand by
      And see You – freeze –
      Without my Right of Frost –
      Death's privilege?

    • Lines 21-28

      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 –

    • Lines 29-32

      They'd judge Us – How –
      For You – served Heaven – You know,
      Or sought to –
      I could not –

    • Lines 33-36

      Because You saturated sight –
      And I had no more eyes
      For sordid excellence
      As Paradise

    • Lines 37-44

      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 Hell to me –

    • Lines 45-50

      So we must meet apart –
      You there – I – here –
      With just the Door ajar
      That Oceans are – and Prayer –
      And that White Sustenance –
      Despair –

  • “I cannot live with You –” Symbols

    • Symbol The Sexton and the Housewife

      The Sexton and the Housewife

      The poem's mysterious Sexton and Housewife might symbolize the power and oppression of the Church and Society, respectively.

      A sexton is a churchwarden with special responsibility for the graveyard. When the speaker describes a sexton who "keeps the key to" the cupboard where their life is stashed away "Like a Cup," then, they suggest that both piety and the threat of death prevent them from being with their beloved. (The speaker's later anxieties about religion and deathbeds bear that reading out.)

      For that matter, the cracked "Cup" that is their shared life would be thrown out at once by any "Housewife," who'd prefer "a newer Sevres" (that is, a stylish new French teacup). This image hints that there's something not quite respectable about the speaker's love: polite society would reject it, seeing it as unseemly.

      Together, the Sexton and Housewife thus suggest that all of society—religious and secular, male and female—disapproves of and forbids the relationship between the speaker and their beloved.

  • “I cannot live with You –” Poetic Devices & Figurative Language

    • Metaphor

      The poem's metaphors help the speaker convey the pain of their predicament.

      When the speaker explains that they "cannot live with" their beloved because they'd have to watch them die one day, their metaphors turn this imagined moment into something out of a horror story:

      And I – Could I stand by
      And see You – freeze –
      Without my Right of Frost –
      Death's privilege?

      This image of freezing evokes the silence, stillness, and chill of a corpse. But what's really horrific here is the idea of seeing the loved one "freeze"—helplessly watching as rigid cold takes over the beloved body. The speaker imagines needing to claim their own "Right of Frost," killing themselves to follow their beloved; perhaps there's even a pun here suggesting a rite of frost, a ritual suicide.

      Elsewhere, the speaker's adoration of their beloved takes the form, not of ice, but of water, "saturat[ing]" the speaker's "sight." Here, the joy of looking at the beloved seems to soak right through the speaker's eyes, an image that suggests both overwhelm—there's no room left for anything else in those eyes—and a kind of liquid aliveness, in contrast with the frozen stiffness of death.

      Such an overwhelming love proves too frightening for the speaker, who decides at the end of the poem that they and their beloved can only "meet apart," maintaining a distant relationship. The sole "Door" between them, the speaker says, will come in the form of "Oceans," "Prayer," and "Despair." This final complex metaphor pushes the beloved away at the same time as it claims to hold a door open. Those oceans suggest almost insurmountable distances, while the "prayer" seems like a fairly chilly consolation, addressed to God rather than directly to the beloved.

      "Despair," meanwhile, the speaker presents as a "White Sustenance," a pale (and perhaps rather anemic) food—not the red meat of committed love. If it's "sustenance," though, it provides some kind of nourishment; maybe despairing over an impossible love is one way for the speaker to cling to it, however painful that might be.

    • Allusion

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    • Enjambment

    • Irony

    • Simile

  • “I cannot live with You –” Vocabulary

    Select any word below to get its definition in the context of the poem. The words are listed in the order in which they appear in the poem.

    • Sexton
    • Putting up
    • Quaint
    • Sevres
    • Nor could I rise – with You –
    • Sought to
    • Saturated
    • Sordid
    • The Heavenly fame
    • Sustenance
    Sexton

    • The keeper of a churchyard (and often a gravedigger, too).

  • Form, Meter, & Rhyme Scheme of “I cannot live with You –”

    • Form

      "I cannot live with You" uses a ragged form that reflects the speaker's turmoil and torment. At first glance, the poem looks fairly regular, as if it might be another of Dickinson's familiar, steady common meter poems. But readers who listen closely will find all sorts of variations in rhythm and shape:

      • The first 11 stanzas, for instance, are quatrains, meaning they have four lines apiece). But they're interrupted by a surprising sestet (a six-line stanza) at the end, capped with a grim one-word closing line: "Despair."
      • The meter, meanwhile, is mostly iambic: that is, the lines are built from iambs, metrical feet with a da-DUM rhythm, as in "Behind." But within that basic rhythm, there are all sorts of unpredictable variations, making the speaker sound halting and agonized.

      There's thus a difference between how the poem looks (pretty orderly, except for that last sestet) and how it sounds. The apparently calm surface of this poem might reflect the speaker's predicament: feeling they have no choice but to stay distant from their beloved, they're hiding a whole apocalypse of passion and pain behind an illusion of formal restraint. Only at the end, in that overflowing final stanza, do those feelings burst out visually as well as metrically.

    • Meter

      Dickinson picks an unusual meter for many of her quatrains here: not common meter, her go-to, but a dance between iambic trimeter and iambic dimeter. That means that she switches between lines of three iambs—metrical feet with a da-DUM rhythm, as in "behind"—and lines of two iambs. Here's how that sounds in the first two lines:

      I can- | not live | with You –
      It would | be Life –

      This is a pretty unusual meter, but readers might find it doesn't sound too unfamiliar or jolting. That's because each pair of lines here adds up to five iambs—and thus lands on the ear like a single line of iambic pentameter (five iambs in a row, the familiar meter of sonnets and Shakespeare—as in "My fa- | ther had | a daugh- | ter loved | a man").

      In other words, much of this poem feels like it's made from broken iambic pentameter—fitting, considering the speaker is talking about heartbreak.

      Even this broken rhythm doesn't stay consistent throughout the poem, though. For just one example, listen to what happens in lines 29-30:

      They'd judge | Us – How –
      For You – | served Heaven – | You know,
      Or sought to –
      I could not –

      Here, the speaker begins with iambic dimeter, moves into trimeter, and then closes the stanza with two strange lines: put them together and they'd be one line of iambic trimeter, but instead they're split down the middle into a one-stress line and a two-stress line. This strange break suggests the difficulty of the moral dilemma the speaker's grappling with: as they confess that their earthly love has displaced God in their heart, their voice sounds almost strangled.

      The twelfth and final stanza, an unexpected sestet after all those quatrains, does something similarly unexpected. Listen to what happens in the last four lines of the six-line stanza, lines 47-50:

      With just the Door ajar
      That Oceans are – and Prayer –
      And that White Sustenance –
      Despair –

      Line 49 uses two strong stresses in unpredictable places, and the closing line 50 is just one sad iamb on its own. As the speaker prepares for a final separation from their beloved, the poem's rhythm seems to break down in tears.

    • Rhyme Scheme

      Much of the poem uses this simple rhyme scheme:

      ABCB

      Dickinson often used this pattern, tempering it with subtle slant rhyme—just as she does in the very first stanza here, rhyming "Life" with "Shelf."

      Over the course of this poem's 50 tormented lines, though, the speaker breaks from this pattern more than once. Listen to what happens in lines 29-32, for instance:

      They'd judge Us – How –
      For You – served Heaven – You know,
      Or sought to –
      I could not –

      There's only the faintest link between "know" and "not"—and it's nearly drowned out by a much stronger internal rhyme between "sought" and "not." These broken, off-kilter rhymes reflect the troubled, broken faith the speaker describes here.

      The poem's most dramatic variation appears in the strange closing stanza. With its six lines, this last stanza already breaks from the pattern of quatrains the poem has laid down. Its rhymes, meanwhile, weave together in a pattern that you'd need a detective's pinboard to map out neatly:

      So we must meet apart –
      You there – I – here –
      With just the Door ajar
      That Oceans are – and Prayer –
      And that White Sustenance –
      Despair –

      There's just one perfect end rhyme here: the final sledgehammer of "Prayer" and "Despair." But there's also:

      • A delayed internal rhyme between "ajar" and "are"
      • A thread of assonant slant rhyme that connects the /uh/ and /ah/ sounds of "apart" to "ajar"
      • Consonance that links "apart" and "ajar" to "Prayer" and "Despair"
      • And the ghost of a slant rhyme between "ajar" and "Prayer."

      All in all, the dense, jarring echoes in this closing stanza suggest the pressure of the speaker's tightening "Despair."

  • “I cannot live with You –” Speaker

    • Readers might be pretty tempted to interpret this poem's speaker as Dickinson herself. The notoriously reclusive Dickinson never married, but she nursed several great passions; some critics read this poem's lines about the beloved "serv[ing] Heaven" as an allusion to Dickinson's intimate friendship with the minister Charles Wadsworth.

      But the poem itself tells readers only that this speaker is a person consumed by deep, frightening passion: so much in love that their beloved's face seems more beautiful than God's. Perhaps this love is even more overpowering because the speaker "cannot live" with their beloved; instead, they must love from afar, living only on the anemic "White Sustenance" of "Despair."

  • “I cannot live with You –” Setting

    • The poem only hints at a setting comes through its metaphor of the cup in the sexton's cabinet. The civilized image of a churchwarden's "Porcelain" and the reference to fancy French "Sevres" china (fashionable in the 19th century) suggest that this poem takes place in Dickinson's own era.

      Beyond that, the poem's tale of love and "Despair" is timeless—literally. The speaker imagines their love (and their torment) carrying on past the end of time, right past Resurrection Day and into eternity.

  • Literary and Historical Context of “I cannot live with You –”

      Literary Context

      Emily Dickinson (1830-1886) published almost nothing during her lifetime, and after 1865 she rarely even left her family home in Amherst, Massachusetts. But from within her circumscribed world, she explored the heights and depths of human experience through her groundbreaking, world-changing poetry.

      No one else sounds quite like Dickinson. Her poems use simple, folky forms—ballad stanzas, for instance—to explore profound philosophical questions, passionate loves, and the mysteries of nature. This poem uses plenty of Dickinson's characteristic dashes, which make many of the lines here seem to hold their breath in awe or in pain.

      While Dickinson didn't get too involved in the literary world of her time, she was still part of a swell of 19th-century American innovation. Her contemporary Walt Whitman (who became as famous as Dickinson was obscure) was similarly developing an unprecedented and unique poetic voice, and the Transcendentalists (like Emerson and Thoreau) shared her deep belief in the spiritual power of nature.

      Dickinson herself was inspired by English writers like William Wordsworth and Charlotte Brontë, whose works similarly found paths through the everyday world into the sublime, terrifying, and astonishing.

      After Dickinson died, her sister Lavinia discovered a trunk of nearly 1,800 secret poems squirreled away in a bedroom. Published at last, Dickinson's poetry became internationally famous and beloved. Dickinson's work and her life story still influence all kinds of artists.

      Historical Context

      This intense, tormented love poem might draw on Dickinson's own romantic experiences. Dickinson never married; later in life, she even became something of a recluse, rarely emerging from her family home. However, her quiet life didn't stop her from having a number of passionate attachments. Her school friend (and eventual sister-in-law) Susan Gilbert and her father's friend Judge Otis Philips Lord (with whom she weighed the possibility of a later-in-life marriage) were two especially important figures in her romantic history.

      Some critics speculate that this particular poem might have been written with Dickinson's friend Charles Wadsworth in mind. Wadsworth was a minister with whom Dickinson had a long correspondence (though almost none of their letters survive now); the notion that the beloved "served Heaven"—or at least "sought to"—might allude to his profession. Wadsworth is also a candidate for the intended recipient of Dickinson's mysterious "Master letters," a series of passionate love letters addressed only to an anonymous "Master." Draft copies of these were found among Dickinson's papers after her death; no one knows whether she sent final copies, or whom she might have intended them for.

      Whether or not this poem was intended for one of Dickinson's beloveds, it plays with similar ideas to those mysterious "Master letters"—including the idea that a beloved might "master" her so much that they'd displace God in her affections.

  • More “I cannot live with You –” Resources

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