The poem I chose

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.