- 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.’