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 To The Edge Of Doom:
If This Be Error And Upon Me Proved,
I Never Writ Or No Man Ever Loved.