The Bard's Birthday

What is love? 'tis not hereafter;
Present mirth hath present laughter;
What's to come is still unsure:
In delay there lies no plenty;
Then come kiss me, sweet and twenty,
Youth's a stuff will not endure.

Once again the day to celebrate the birth of old Master Shakes. I trust the festing at the Bureau tonight will be in your honour, and the flowers are piled high upon your grave as they were in 2005. To another year of words, words, words...