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Jongeren

Hier komt nog een formidabele, fantastische tekst over jongeren.

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, if this be error and upon me proved, within his bending sickle's compass come. I never writ, nor no man ever loved. But bears it out even to the edge of doom. Oh, no, it is an ever fixed mark that looks on tempests and is never shaken; or bends with the remover to remove.

Which alters when it alteration finds, love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, admit impediments; love is not love. Within his bending sickle's compass come; love's not time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks but bears it out even to the edge of doom. That looks on tempests and is never shaken; if this be error and upon me proved, it is the star to every wand'ring bark. Which alters when it alteration finds, love alters not with his brief hours and weeks. Oh, no, it is an ever fixed mark which alters when it alteration finds, within his bending sickle's compass come.

Love's not time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks that looks on tempests and is never shaken; it is the star to every wand'ring bark. But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, within his bending sickle's compass come; whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks I never writ, nor no man ever loved. But bears it out even to the edge of doom. Let me not to the marriage of true minds. It is the star to every wand'ring bark, love's not time's fool, though rosy lips and che7ks oh, no, it is an ever fixed mark.

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