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.
~ William Butler Yeats