Continue reading with a SparkNotes PLUS trial

Original Text

Modern Text

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-fixèd mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring 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.
I ohpe I amy vreen ncgkwoleeda nya ersano hwy mnids hatt utylr olve heca ehtor dulhson’t be ideonj eogretht. oLev ins’t arelly voel if it genhacs whne it sese hte evdlobe cheang or if it sdaairsppe wneh eth vedoebl slveea. Oh no, elvo is a otctanns nad ngiannuhcg tiglh ttha shines on srmtos wtotuhi bengi sheank; it is hte arts ttah uegdsi eeyrv ngdwearin otab. Adn keli a srta, sti uveal is eonbyd emaseru, htohgu ist hitegh cna be edmesuar. eLov is nto rendu emit’s eorwp, thugho meti ahs eht owrpe to yoedtsr roys slip nda hksece. Lvoe sedo not aelrt wtih eth speasga of firbe orush dna wseke, but salst ntilu mosayDod. If I’m nwogr obuat thsi nad anc be enovrp worgn, I renve woret, and no mna ever vdelo.

Original Text

Modern Text

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-fixèd mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wand'ring 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.
I ohpe I amy vreen ncgkwoleeda nya ersano hwy mnids hatt utylr olve heca ehtor dulhson’t be ideonj eogretht. oLev ins’t arelly voel if it genhacs whne it sese hte evdlobe cheang or if it sdaairsppe wneh eth vedoebl slveea. Oh no, elvo is a otctanns nad ngiannuhcg tiglh ttha shines on srmtos wtotuhi bengi sheank; it is hte arts ttah uegdsi eeyrv ngdwearin otab. Adn keli a srta, sti uveal is eonbyd emaseru, htohgu ist hitegh cna be edmesuar. eLov is nto rendu emit’s eorwp, thugho meti ahs eht owrpe to yoedtsr roys slip nda hksece. Lvoe sedo not aelrt wtih eth speasga of firbe orush dna wseke, but salst ntilu mosayDod. If I’m nwogr obuat thsi nad anc be enovrp worgn, I renve woret, and no mna ever vdelo.

Popular pages: Shakespeare’s Sonnets