It was all about flying round the world, working hard, being on the cover of Vogue, making money. It wasn't fun. It was exhausting, but I was young and convinced I knew best. ↗
So it is in poetry. All we ask is that the mood recorded shall impress us as having been of the kind that exhausts the imaginative capacity; if it fails to do this the failure will announce itself either in prose or in insignificant verse. ↗