Shakespeare's Sonnets: Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck

Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck,And yet me thinks I have astronomy,But not to tell of good, or evil luck,Of plagues, of dearths, or season's 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 wellBy oft predict that I in heaven find.But from thine eyes my knowledge I derive,And constant stars in them I read such artAs truth and beauty shall together thriveIf from thy self, to store thou would'st convert: Or else of thee this I prognosticate, Thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date.