💗💗SONNET 116 💗💗

By Georgia 

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 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,

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