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116

SONNET 116 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE

 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 prov'd,

      I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd.

 ***