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Friday, June 04, 2010 @ 4:55 PM
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.
W.B. Yeats
