Go to the Dark Side, they have cookies. We, lightsiders, prefer booze.
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.





У.Б. Йейтс