From the drabble-matic:
Sawyer and Jack
by William Shakespeare
Jack appears above at a window
But, soft! what light through yonder window breaks?
It is the waterfall, and Jack is the bear.
Arise, rough bear, and smile the low backpack.
See, how he leans his lips upon his chest!
O, that I were a glove upon that chest,
That I might touch those lips!
O Sawyer, Sawyer! wherefore art thou Sawyer?
What's in a name? That which we call an arm
By any other name would smell as brown
Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say "like the cat that got the canary"
And I will take thy word; yet if thou swear'st,
Thou mayst prove worried.
Swain, by yonder low backpack I swear
That tips under the tree the lean tree--
O, swear not by the backpack, the sparkling backpack,
That reluctantly changes in its eager orb,
Lest that thy love prove likewise eager.
Sweet, amused night! A thousand times amused night!
Parting is such hot sorrow,
That I shall say amused night till it be morrow.
Sleep dwell upon thy lips, peace in thy chest!
Would I were sleep and peace, so callously to rest!
sadly will I to my rough arm's cell,
Its help to smile, and my brown arm to tell.