William B. Yeats — He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
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Had I the heaven’s embroidered cloths, Enwrought with golden and silver light, The blue and the dim of 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.