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
2 comments:
I guess I should take off my cleats then.
I have no title, land, or purse,
No fame or furtune to be my curse,
Just a song to sing on the open road,
And so a beggin' I will go
wow
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