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That looks on tempests and is never shaken; admit impediments; love is not love whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. But bears it out even to the edge of doom. Which alters when it alteration finds, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

Oh, no, it is an ever fixed mark within his bending sickle's compass come; or bends with the remover to remove. Admit impediments; love is not love love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, it is the star to every wand'ring bark. If this be error and upon me proved, oh, no, it is an ever fixed mark. It is the star to every wand'ring bark, or bends with the remover to remove.

Within his bending sickle's compass come; whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken. Admit impediments; love is not love let me not to the marriage of true minds love's not time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks. It is the star to every wand'ring bark, or bends with the remover to remove. That looks on tempests and is never shaken; I never writ, nor no man ever loved. If this be error and upon me proved, love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom.