‘We are such stuff / As dreams are made on, and our little life / Is rounded with a sleep.’*

*from Shakespeare’s “The Tempest”, in one of Prospero’s most famous speeches (‘Our revels now are ended’).

Aedh Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven (1899)

W. B. Yeats – 1865-1939

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 your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

The Embankment (The fantasia of a fallen gentleman on a cold, bitter night) (1908-9)

T. E. Hulme (1883-1917)

Once, in finesse of fiddles found I ecstasy,
In a flash of gold heels on the hard pavement.
Now see I
That warmth’s the very stuff of poesy.
Oh, God, make small
The old star-eaten blanket of the sky,
That I may fold it round me and in comfort lie.

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