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, 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 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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BOTANICAL GARDENS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS THE HAUNTED OAK by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE VOICE OF THE BANJO by PAUL LAURENCE DUNBAR THE NEW JERUSALEM by AUGUSTINE TO A FRIEND ON HER BIRTH-DAY by BERNARD BARTON THE GARDEN WHERE THERE IS NO WINTER by LOUIS JAMES BLOCK |