Sonnet 115

　　Those lines that I before have writ do lie，

　　Even those that said I could not love you dearer：

　　Yet then my judgement knew no reason why

　　My most full flame should afterwards burn clearer.

　　But reckoning Time，whose millioned accidents

　　Creep in'twixt ows，and change decrees of kings，

　　Tan sacred beauty，blunt the sharp'st intents.

　　Divert strong minds to the course of alt'ring things—

　　Alas，why，fearing of Time's tyranny，

　　Might I not then say，