Dear Will: We think it's really cool
you're still in wide release.
For me and Celia and our fool
you wrote a splendid piece.
It's true, you had us sleeping rough
under the greenwood tree,
my legs in hose, a flimsy bluff
Orlando failed to see..
(Your heroes often lack the sense
to come in when it rains,
while heroines in self-defence
must cultivate their brains.)
But, on the whole, it's been a great
four centuries of applause.
We love you, Will. Let's go for eight.