" 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.