It should be of the pleasure of a poem itself to tell how it can. The figure a poem makes. It begins in delight and ends in wisdom. The figure is the same for love.

Writing a poem is discovering.

I dwell in a lonely house I know That vanished many a summer ago.

He says the best way out is always through. / And I can agree to that, or in so far / As that I can see no way out but through

A poem begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a lovesickness.

What you want, what you're hanging around in the world waiting for, is for something to occur to you.

So when at times the mob is swayed To carry praise or blame too far, We may choose something like a star To stay our minds on and be staid.