Wednesday, 28 June 2017

Love bears it out even to the edge of doom


Tzortz St., Athens, 24.03.2016



                                             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.

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