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! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A POEM FROM THE EDGE OF AMERICA by JAMES GALVIN MONODY ON THE DEATH OF WILLIAM MARION REEDY by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE BLACK RIDERS: 1 by STEPHEN CRANE THE HELMSMAN by HILDA DOOLITTLE HIS CONTENT IN THE COUNTRY by ROBERT HERRICK THE CAGED SKYLARK by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS |