This was supposed to be a poem by Auden, but I wasn’t in the mood for his gayness, which in my youth I used to love. So here, instead, is Yeats. A poem so famous that you probably already know it by heart (wasn’t it used in some movie or other?), but so tender it never fails to move my wooden heart.

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

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