English poem
Sonnet 14: Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck
Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck; And yet methinks I have astronomy, But not to tell of good or evil luck, Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons' quality; Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell, Pointing to each his thunder, rain and wind, Or say with princes if it shall go well By oft predict that I in heaven find: But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive, And constant stars in them I read such art As 'Truth and beauty shall together thrive, If from thyself, to store thou wouldst convert'; Or else of thee this I prognosticate: 'Thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date.'
More by William Shakespeare
- Sonnet 145: Those lips that Love's own hand did make
- Sonnet 146: Poor soul, the centre of my sinful earth
- Sonnet 147: My love is as a fever longing still
- Sonnet 149: Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not
- Sonnet 152: In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn
- Sonnet 153: Cupid laid by his brand and fell asleep
- Sonnet 154: The little Love-god lying once asleep
- Sonnet 15: When I consider every thing that grows