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 is used to pushing through grief as if wading through a pool of tears. She has no problem surviving the pain, even large amounts of it. However, when a small amount of happiness comes her way, it metaphorically trips her up and makes her stumble and fall. And she asks the pebbles, witnesses to this fall, not to laugh at her, simply because she has no tolerance for the alcohol of happiness, not having had any experience with it. 

 

She then explains that power is not some gift but rather is the result of pain that, through discipline, can bear or withstand a heavy burden on its own. Pain stiffens the spine and strengthens the sinews. It forges the soul. If you give anything soothing or helpful to giants, they will become as weak as ordinary humans. In contrast, if you give them a mountain, that is, a challenge, they will rise to it and show their greatest strength.