Favourite Poets, again

He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven
W. B. Yeats

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.

This is the first poem I ever memorised fully. It makes me cry. We studied it in school once, and another girl in my class cried at it. It does that to people, maybe because it makes me believe that love is selfless.