The Sonnets CXVI - 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 wandering bark, Whose worths unknown, although his height be taken. Loves not Times fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickles 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 provd, I never writ, nor no man ever lovd.
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"Let me not to the marriage of true minds..."
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