Sonnet #14

nt frm d *s do I my judgement pluck,
& yet methinks I hv astronomy,
bt nt 2 tell of good, / evil luck,
Of plagues, of dearths, / seasons' quality,
Nor can I 4tune 2 brief minutes tell;
Pointing 2 each his thunder, rain & wind,
/ say wiv princes if it shl go well
By oft predict th@ I in heaven find.
bt frm thine eyes my knowledge I derive,
& constant *s in them I read such art
As truth & beauty shl together thrive
If frm thy self, 2 store thou wudst convert:
/ else of thee this I prognosticate,
Thy end is truthz & beautyz doom & date.
See Original Sonnet

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?

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