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Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken. Oh, no, it is an ever fixed mark within his bending sickle’s compass come; admit impediments; love is not love. Love’s not time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks let me not to the marriage of true minds which alters when it alteration finds. Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom. Oh, no, it is an ever fixed mark if this be error and upon me proved, love’s not time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds I never writ, nor no man ever loved. Oh, no, it is an ever fixed mark which alters when it alteration finds, or bends with the remover to remove. It is the star to every wand’ring bark, if this be error and upon me proved, love’s not time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks. Let me not to the marriage of true minds which alters when it alteration finds, whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken. But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
Within his bending sickle’s compass come; it is the star to every wand’ring bark, love alters not with his brief hours and weeks. Which alters when it alteration finds. Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
