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 your feet; 
 Tread softly because you tread on my dreams. 
 --W.B. Yeats 
 I come back to this collection from time to time - both for the "love" poems and for the polemics. Yeats, as you know, was brilliant, painfully timid and passionate at the same time, and then also courageous. 
 A great way to find out what the fuss is all about.