Emily Dickinson

I can wade Grief

RW312 I can wade Grief - Whole Pools of it - I'm used to that - But the least push of Joy Breaks up my feet - And I tip - drunken - Let no Pebble - smile - 'Twas the New Liquor - That was all! Power is only Pain - Stranded  - thro' Discipline, Till Weights -will hang - Give Balm - to Giants - And they'll wilt, like Men - Give Himmaleh - They'll Carry - Him!