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.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Today is another suggestion by a dear friend. I can't believe I didn't have any by Yeats in the queue, so I was happy to add this one!