This is a really old poem, but i like it.

Come, gentle night, come, loving, black-brow'd night,
Give me my Romeo; and, when he shall die,
Take him and cut him out in little star,
And he will make the face of heaven so fine
That all the world will be in love with night
And pay no worship top the garish sun.

Love is a smoke raised with the fume of sighs;
Being purged, a fire sparkling in lovers' eyes;
Being vex'd a sea nourished with lovers' tears;
A choking gall and preserving sweet.