My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun - In Corners - till a Day The Owner passed - identified - And carried Me away - - Emily Dickinson

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 –

A great hope fell
You heard no noise
The ruin was within.

Read, sweet, how others strove,
Till we are stouter;
What they renounced,
Till we are less afraid;
How many times they bore
The faithful witness,
Till we are helped,
As if a kingdom cared!

Read then of faith
That shone above the fagot;
Clear strains of hymn
The river could not drown;
Brave names of men
And celestial women,
Passed out of record
Into renown!