The Sonnets, by William Shakespeare


116: Let me not to the marriage of true minds

  Let me not to the marriage of true minds 
  Admit impediments, love is not love 
  Which alters when it alteration finds,
  Or bends with the remover to remove.
  O no, it is an ever-fixed mark 
  That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
  It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
  Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
  Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks 
  Within his bending sickle's compass come,
  Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
  But bears it out even to the edge of doom:
    If this be error and upon me proved,
    I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

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