"Sonnet 116"
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Let me not to the marriage of true mindsππ
ππAdmit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,ππ
ππOr bends with the remover to remove:
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O no! it is an ever-fixed markππ
ππThat looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,ππ
ππWhose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
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Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeksππ
ππWithin his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,ππ
ππBut bears it out even to the edge of doom.
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If this be error and upon me proved,ππ
ππI never writ, nor no man ever loved