(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..