Complexity was my delight;
When the shadow had a name, I got the shadow right,
And all around my cunning memory
The people honored me.
But that was under a different sun.
You better put me down for one.
I endeared myself to all,
My poems were glaciers, which I made small
In a trick I learned last year
When the critic, my love, swung near.
But that was under a different sun.
You better put me down for one.
I fabricated delights for all
Who came into the leafy valley beaten and small;
I took the law from the primitive tree.
I made the law me.
But that was under a different sun.
You better put me down for one.
I tried to show what I could know
In difficulty—night, fog, the valley, snow.
I knew a thousand poems by sight
Even when they were covered by night.
But that was under a different sun.
You better put me down for one.
I thought it was the thought you feared,
But that was only how the thought appeared;
We had not wanted to imply
That our thought needed to ask why.
But that was under a different sun.
You better put me down for one.
I thought I could love you all,
Where the great woods shadow the sibilant call,
And the rain and lake plunge pleasantly
To the green sea.
But that was under a different sun.
You better put me down for one.
