I live with him, I see his face;

I live with him, I see his face;
  I go no more away
For visitor, or sundown;
  Death's single privacy,

The only one forestalling mine,
  And that by right that he
Presents a claim invisible,
  No wedlock granted me.

I live with him, I hear his voice,
  I stand alive to-day
To witness to the certainty
  Of immortality

Taught me by Time, — the lower way,
  Conviction every day, —
That life like this is endless,
  Be judgment what it may.

Published in Poems by Emily Dickinson: Third Series

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