" Out beyond the
there is a field
I’ll meet you there."
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 you feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.
— Yeats, The Wind Among the Reeds
Don’t hide your heart, but reveal it,
So that mine might be revealed,
And I might accept what I am capable of.