Had I the heaven's embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and sliver 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
W.B. Yeats
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