I reckon —when I count at all —
First —Poets —Then the Sun —
Then Summer —Then the Heaven of God —
And then —the List is done —
But, looking back —the First so seems
To Comprehend the Whole —
The Others look a needless Show —
So I write —Poets —All —
Their Summer —lasts a Solid Year —
They can afford a Sun
The East —would deem extravagant —
And if the Further Heaven —
Be Beautiful as they prepare
For Those who worship Them —
It is too difficult a Grace —
To justify the Dream —

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