Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck, <br />And yet methinks I have astronomy, <br />But not to tell of good, or evil luck, <br />Of plagues, of dearths, or seasons' quality, <br />Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell; <br />Pointing to each his thunder, rain and wind, <br />Or say with princes if it shall go well <br />By oft predict that I in heaven find. <br />But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive, <br />And constant stars in them I read such art <br />As truth and beauty shall together thrive <br />If from thy self, to store thou wouldst convert: <br />Or else of thee this I prognosticate, <br />Thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date.<br /><br />William Shakespeare<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/sonnet-14-not-from-the-stars-do-i-my-judgement-pluck/
