Analysis of Sonnet 16Sonnet 16 is an enchanting poem. Presents an argument that appears abstract or philosophical, not at all personal, not "interested" in the strict sense. And the impediment, which is generally required in a sonnet, is named by the poet only to be able to expressly forbid it. What will we do with the contradiction? Do not allow me to admit obstacles in the marriage of true minds. Love is not love that alters when it finds an alteration, or bends when it removes it to remove it. Oh no, it is an ever-fixed sign that watches the storms and is never shaken; it is the star of every wandering boat, whose value is unknown, even if its height is taken. Love is no fool of time, though rosy lips and cheeks come within the range of its curved scythe. Love does not alter with its short hours and weeks, but endures it even to the point of ruin. If this be a mistake and proved upon me, I never wrote, nor any man ever loved. “Don't let me”: The poem begins in an imperative mood. Its action is semantic – it aims to delineate the permissible parameters of love – and its goal seems to be hermeticity. I will not admit, the poet asserts, that love involves impediments. If it falters, it's not love. The love I have in mind is a lighthouse (a marine beacon or navigation guide for sailors); it is a North Star. Like that star, it surpasses all narrow understanding (its "value is unknown"); its height alone (basis of calculation for the navigator) is sufficient to guide us. The ideal of poetry is an unshakable faith and claims to realize its ideal. Strange then, isn't it, that much of the reasoning proceeds by negation: "don't let me", "love isn't", "Oh no", and so on. Perhaps the poet is less sure of himself than he seems. What causes trust to waver? The poem was written to refute certain concepts (alteration, removal) that it relegates to the realm of abstraction. But in the third quatrain the abstraction begins to collapse. Time, it seems, has something to do with change and the threat of removal. The poet replies: time is very little compared to love. Time can alter beauty, but love does not hold back. Time can be measured in small hours and weeks; the only adequate measure of love begins where time ends ("the edge of destiny").