Love is not love,
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
which alters when it alteration finds.
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Or bends with the remover to remove.
Which alters when it alteration finds
Or bends with the remover to remove
It is an ever-fixed mark
O no! It is an ever-fixed mark
that looks on tempests
That looks on tempests and is never shaken
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
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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