famous poem

let us pity those who are better off than we are
in new york harbor
out of the window a sea of green trees
i love my hour of wind and light
the ancient songs
to come so soon to this imagined dark
i have seen the proudest stars
along a river-side
sing again the song you sung
her face is fair and smooth and fine
i saw the clouds among the hills
under a spreading chestnut tree
a poet, having taken the bridle off his tongue
see, from this counterfeit of him