I have spread my dreams beneath your feet. Tread softly because you tread on my dreams. - William Butler Yeats

Tread softly because you tread on my dreams

Bow down, archangels, in your dim abode:
Before you were, or any hearts to beat,
Weary and kind one lingered by His seat;
He made the world to be a grassy road
Before her wandering feet.

Life moves out of a red flare of dreams
Into a common light of common hours,
Until old age bring the red flare again.

Where the wave of moonlight glosses
The dim gray sands with light,
Far off by furthest Rosses
We foot it all the night,
Weaving olden dances,
Mingling hands and mingling glances
Till the moon has taken flight;
To and fro we leap
And chase the frothy bubbles,
While the world is full of troubles
And is anxious in its sleep. . . .