If I had heaven's embroidered clothes,
Woven tight with gold and silver light;
Both blue, black and dark shewn bright.
The dark, the light and the half night.
I'd spread these garments under your feet.
Lowly am I that I cannot afford such a treat.
I, now poor, have only my dreams.
But I'll spread my dreams beneath your feet.
So tread softly, my dear, for you'll tread on my dreams.
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