Favourite poem

He wishes for the cloths of heaven

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.

-- William Butler Yeats

I can't remember when I first read this, I just know that I fell in love with it immediately and no matter how many times I read it, the magic of it has never disappeared. He wishes that he could give her more majestic gifts, but what he does give her, his dreams, are worth so much more. He is literally laying himself down at her feet. Such beautiful imagery. I hope she did tread softly.