

"Sonnet 116"
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:
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.
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.
If this be error and upon me proved,ππ
ππI never writ, nor no man ever loved