Ode to Shakespeare

“I love thee
I love thee with a love that shall not die. Till the sun grows cold and the stars grow old.”

I love thee till the mountains pierce the sky and the ocean floor is dry
Till the moon becomes gold, and the thunder is consoled,
Till the sea loses its salt and the waves is forced to halt
Till there shalt be stars from lightening bolts and pillows from clouds afloat
Till the grasslands spits out weeds and the trees grow with speed