On this day in 1865 W.B. Yeats was born in the Sandymount area of Dublin. Yeats is my favorite poet. I have even made the trek to his gravesite in County Sligo in Ireland.
As our man Partridge was killed after reading a very short Yeats' poem I though it only fitting to do a small (but sweet) spam honoring both him and Yeats.....
Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths, Enwrought with gold 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.