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.
More verses by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 77: Thy Glass Will Show Thee How Thy Beauties Wear
- Sonnet 24: “mine Eye Hath Played The Painter And Hath Stelled…”
- Sonnet 44: If The Dull Substance Of My Flesh Were Thought
- Sonnet 80: O, How I Faint When I Of You Do Write
- Sonnet 62: Sin Of Self-Love Possesseth All Mine Eye