HAD I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and the half light, I would spread the cloths under your feet: But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; Tread softly because you tread on my dreams. |
W.B. Yeats (1865–1939)"He Wishes For the Cloths of Heaven"
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