Thread Softly

He Wishes For The Clothes of Heaven

HAD I the heaven’s embroider cloths,

Enwrought with golden and silver light,

The blue and the dim and the darks 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;

Treat softly because you tread on my dreams.

William Butler Yeats