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William Shakespeare (1564–1616).  The Oxford Shakespeare: Poems.  1914.

Sonnet XIV.

“Not from the stars do I my judgment pluck”


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 truth’s and beauty’s doom and date.’ 


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