An Emily Dickinson Poem

To put this World down, like a Bundle --
And walk steady, away,
Requires Energy -- possibly Agony --
'Tis the Scarlet way

Trodden with straight renunciation
By the Son of God --
Later, his faint Confederates
Justify the Road --

Flavors of that old Crucifixion --
Filaments of Bloom, Pontius Pilate sowed --
Strong Clusters, from Barabbas' Tomb --

Sacrament, Saints partook before us --
Patent, every drop,
With the Brand of the Gentile Drinker
Who indorsed the Cup --