Emily Dickinson

(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886 / Amherst / Massachusetts)

I Can Wade Grief - Poem by Emily Dickinson

252

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!


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Read poems about / on: grief, power, smile, joy, pain



Poem Submitted: Monday, January 13, 2003



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