Let me not let true minds not be wed.
 Love is not love which makes a change when it
 Finds there's a change by which it could be led,
 Or bends with he who would get rid of it:
 O no! it is a fixed for all time sign
 That looks at storms but will not shake in fright;
 It is the star to ships that sail the brine,
 Whose worth's not known, though they can take his height.
 Love's not Time's fool, though red lips and pink cheeks
 In the round reach of his bent scythe have come:
 Love does not change with his brief hours and weeks,
 But bears out all the way to the edge of doom.
   If this is just plain wrong and to me proved,
   I did not write, nor has a man quite loved.

                                -- Will the Bard