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"

3 comments:
Good choice. Beautiful poem.
Thanks for a little dose of Monday afternoon pretty. :)
Yeah. Vegas laid that one at my feet and it's now just about my favorite little piece of poem ever. :-)
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