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 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.
More verses by William Shakespeare
- When To The Sessions Of Sweet Silent Thought (Sonnet 30)
- Sonnet 75: So Are You To My Thoughts As Food To Life
- Sonnet 112: Your Love And Pity Doth Th' Impression Fill
- The Blossom
- Sonnet 153: Cupid Laid By His Brand And Fell Asleep