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Sonnet Xiv

Rating: 4.4
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,
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COMMENTS
Zoyza Da Vinka 20 October 2020
Marvelous poem. A social exploitation.
0 0 Reply
M Asim Nehal 08 October 2015
Wonderful sonnet............Satire of class.
1 0 Reply
Brian Jani 26 April 2014
Awesome I like this poem, check mine out 
0 1 Reply

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