I reckon-when I count it all

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I reckon-when I count it 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-