Marianne Faithfull - Sonnet 14 lyrics

(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.