Enwrought with the past, future and the present,
The dusk and the dawn and the nature's scent
Of gods and demigods and the devil's age,
I would spread the clocks under your feet;
But I, being poor, have only my time
I have spread my hours under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my time...
Due apologies to Mr Yeats - I borrowed your rhythm. For they say that imitation is the best form of flattery.
