Tread softly...

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 dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly, because you tread on my dreams...

W.B. Yeats