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On Love by Shakespeare

Sonnet 116, by William Shakespeare. His works do remain immortal 🙂

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 prov’d,
I never writ, nor no man ever lov’d.

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Categories: Expression
  1. August 23, 2007 at 4:12 pm

    I simply love this poem. Thanks for providing me an opportunity to read this again.

  2. August 23, 2007 at 9:06 pm

    Yes, it is beautiful 🙂

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