Sonnet 14 Lyrics - Marianne Faithfull

(william shakespeare) 

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, or dearths, or seasons' quality; 

Nor can I fortune to brief minutes tell, 

Pointing to each his thunder, rain, and wind, 

Or say with princess if it whall 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, 

They and is truth's and beauty's doom and date. 

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