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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In going over to my library after reading this post I bash my pinkytoe to mincemeat. Hopping, I find the book and bounce it back to the computer. Jan Bervin in the book "Nets" has a good number of the Shakespeare sonnets as palimpsests. 116 reads as follows. The line breaks are all I can preserve in this format--the spacing will have to be imagined by highlighting the words in your typed copy of Shakespeare's original...
shaken
wand'ring
worth unknown
compass
even the edge of
error
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