Had I the heaven's 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. We were conceived in your dreams, Which sang with love & laughter, And caressed our own dreams, To run, dance, leap, not tread softly. At times crash; yet your dreams embraced us: Heaven’s embroidered cloths are now worn; They wrapped, but never embraced us; But from your dreams, many others are born.