watsonlove:

I am that merry wanderer of the night. 
I jest to Oberon and make him smile 
When I a fat and bean-fed horse beguile, 
Neighing in likeness of a filly foal: 
And sometime lurk I in a gossip’s bowl, 
In very likeness of a roasted crab, 
And when she drinks, against her lips I bob 
And on her wither’d dewlap pour the ale.

(Source: watsonlove, via watsonlove)

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