;embroidered' has connotations of perfection, an infinite array of colours.
             Throughout the poem Yeats concentrates on colours, especially different
             shades of blues of the sky, representing the passage of time, seasons
             changing but that throughout all the changes the sky still remains beautiful
             In the first four lines of the poem Yeats creates a detailed image of
             heaven and its perfection and beauty. Through this he states his wishes/ In
             the following four lines he reveals what he would do with those wishes. He
             lays his soul bare, and shows the depth of his love by declaring his undying
             love for Maud Gonne. The only person who deserves such wealth as the
             heavens, is Maud. If Yeats were God, and owned the heavens, the only one
             worthy of receiving them would be Maud. He elaborates on this by saying
             even the heavens would only be good enough for her to walk upon. By
             stating this, Yeats is exalting his love: she is like a Goddess and he is
             undeserving of her. He deems himself unworthy and humbles himself. In
             "But I, being poor, have only my dreams."
             Through this, Yeats suddenly becomes more realistic: he knows he is not God
             and he knows he doesn't own the heavens. The only thing of value and
             beauty he owns are his dreams. He has made himself vulnerable by
             spreading all his dreams and desires before Maud, and now she must decide
             if she will return his love and make his wildest dreams come true, or trample
             and tear his cloths and shatter his dreams.
             "Tread softly because you tread on my dreams."
             He is waiting anxiously to see her reaction and is gently pleading that she will
             not reject him. Through this last line he is begging her to be kind: she has his
             heart and dreams in her hand; she has the power to decide his fate.
             This poem is similar to Burns' and Wordsworth's poems in many
             ways. All three sound like a song, a gentle c...