The Test
Emily Dickinson
1830 to 1886
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,
'T was the new liquor, —
That was all!
Power is only pain,
Stranded, through discipline,
Till weights will hang.
Give balm to giants,
And they 'll wilt, like men.
Give Himmaleh, —
They 'll carry him!
Emily Dickinson's The Test
I am busy working to bring Emily Dickinson's "The Test" to life through some unique musical arrangements and will have a full analysis of the poem here for you later.
In the meantime, I invite you to explore the poem's themes, structure, and meaning. You can also check out the gallery for other musical arrangements or learn more about Emily Dickinson's life and contributions to literature.
Check back soon to experience how "The Test" transforms when verse meets melody—a unique journey that makes poetry accessible, engaging, and profoundly moving in new ways.
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