No. 116

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.

Oh no, it is an ever fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is a star to every wand'ring barque.
Whose worth's unknown although his height be taken.

Love's not times 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.