Auden refused to make a hero out of anyone. He wrote a bunch of amazing elegies (including ones for Sigmund Freud and the poet W.B. Yeats) and even in those poems commemorating their lives and work, he refused to turn them into heroes.
So did Auden just think that everyone was a crackpot? Not really. As we see in "Lullaby," he loves the humanness of his lover. He loves his mortality, his guilt, his mistakes, his flaws. Auden loved to celebrate the anti-hero, the regular ol' guy or gal who is majorly imperfect. For Auden, imperfections are what make us "entirely beautiful." So don't go looking for any Supermans in Auden's poetry. You won't find them here.