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He Wishes For The Cloths Of Heaven

 by William Butler Yeats

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.

I just read that poem, as part of a short account, in a non-fiction, self-help book. While reading it, I got tingles all over my chest, and when I finished reading it, my eyes watered ever so slightly. Probably nothing someone would easily notice, but I felt my eyes water. I don’t know why.

It is such an immensely beautiful piece of writing. I wish I wrote something like that before. I hope I can write something like this one day.

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