If your Nerve, deny you —
Go above your Nerve —
He can lean against the Grave,
If he fear to swerve —
That’s a steady posture —
Never any bend
Held of those Brass arms —
Best Giant made —
If your Soul seesaw —
Lift the Flesh door —
The Poltroon wants Oxygen —
Nothing more —
(Emily Dickinson)
More Poetry from Emily Dickinson:
- Awake ye muses nine, sing me a strain divine (Emily Dickinson Poems)
- Sic transit gloria mundi (Emily Dickinson Poems)
- I cannot live with You (Emily Dickinson Poems)
- The Wind begun to knead the Grass (Emily Dickinson Poems)
- One Year ago-jots what? (Emily Dickinson Poems)
- Your Riches - taugh (Emily Dickinson Poems)