Alas, poor Dashie! I knew her, Twilight Sparkle: a lady of infinite speed, of most excellent awesome: she hath borne me on her wings a thousand times; and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! My gorge rims at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how oft. Where be your flight now? Your laughter? Your tricks? Your dreaming of Wonderbolts, that was wont to put your friendship to the test? Not one now, to mock your own grinning? Quite chap-fallen? Now get you to dear Luna's chamber, and tell her, let her paint an inch thick, to this favour she must come; make her laugh at that.
I'm never too busy to rewrite literature. The meter should be kept solid, and I believe this implies that I made out with Rainbow Dash.