Sonnet 115

Those lines that I before have writ do lie,Even those that said I could not love you dearer:Yet then my judgment knew no reason whyMy most full flame should afterwards burn clearer. 4But reckoning Time, whose million'd accidentsCreep in 'twixt vows, and change decrees of kings,Tan sacred beauty, blunt the sharp'st intents,Divert strong minds to the course of altering things; 8Alas ! why, fearing of Time's tyranny,Might I not then say, 'Now I love you best,'When I was certain o'er incertainty,Crowning the present, doubting of the rest? 12Love is a babe; then might I not say so,To give full growth to that which still doth grow.

5 reckoning: taking account of12 the rest: the future13 so: 'I love you best'14 To give: giving