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Let me not to the marraige 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\'s 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,not man ever loved. |
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