if your nerve deny you

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

I usually get Emily's poems instantly. This one challenges me. I get the first two lines, even the first . . . .hmmm, now I get it. "If you Soul seasaw --- Lift the flesh door"  I get it.

My nerve has denied me but will no more.