Sonnet 116 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
that is a stunningly beautiful sonnet, josie...thanks for sharing, i never know where to start with shakespeare.
ReplyDeleteSimply beautiful!
ReplyDeleteIf it weren't so popular I would love it even more!
ReplyDeleteYeah that's the trouble with ole' Shakespeare, everybody's heard of him ;)
ReplyDeleteI know (I am such a snob - but sort of happy about that!)
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful reading! Gotta love Shakespeare :) xoxo
ReplyDeleteLove is a temporary madness, it erupts like volcanoes and then subsides. And when it subsides you have to make a decision. You have to work out whether your roots have so entwined together that it is inconceivable that you should ever part. Because this is what love is. Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of eternal passion. That is just being “in love” which any one can do. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident. Those that truly love, have roots that grow towards each other underground, and when all the pretty blossom have fallen from their branches, they find that they are one tree and not two.
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