Marianne Faithfull
Marianne Faithfull - Sonnet 14 lyrics
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(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.