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!--Emily Dickinson
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