Love.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds1
Admit impediments. Love is not love2
Which alters when it alteration finds,3
Or bends with the remover to remove :4
Oh no ! it is an ever-fixed mark,5
That looks on tempests, and is never shaken ;6
It is the star of every wandering bark,7
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.8
Love’s not Time’s fool ; though rosy lips and cheeks9
Within his bending sickle’s compass come,10
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,11
But bears it out e’en to the edge of doom.12
If this be error, and upon me proved,13
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.14