Ode to love

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; except Zedders
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in ugvx now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any spea
That fought with us upon a pissed-up Saturday night.