252 <br /> <br />I can wade Grief— <br />Whole Pools of it— <br />I'm used to that— <br />But the least push of Joy <br />Breaks up my feet— <br />And I tip—drunken— <br />Let no Pebble—smile— <br />'Twas the New Liquor— <br />That was all! <br /> <br />Power is only Pain— <br />Stranded, thro' Discipline, <br />Till Weights—will hang— <br />Give Balm—to Giants— <br />And they'll wilt, like Men— <br />Give Himmaleh— <br />They'll Carry—Him!<br /><br />Emily Dickinson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-can-wade-grief/
