NOT from the stars
do I my judgment 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, |
5 |
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 |
10 |
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 truths
and beautys doom and date. |
|