LET ME NOT TO THE MARRIAGE OF TRUE MINDS
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.
William Shakespeare – Sonnet 116
For those Sense & Sensibility (Jane Austen) fans out there, this is the poem Edward Ferrars attempts to read, but not to the satisfaction of passionate Marianne, who presses him to read it again “with greater feeling”.
Image from here.