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.

by William Butler Yeats

Other poems of YEATS (398)

Comments (3)

sad tone. nice to read this
It takes me to the breaking point of query, Good!
The suffering of a person one loves moves one more than the suffering of those not know to one personally. A simple thought, beautifully expressed, but not necessarily true. Think of Miranda's line in Shakespeare's Tempest; 'How I suffered with those that I saw suffer.' It takes an exceptional person to feel that way.