This sonnet is about a guy saying how all the inspiration that he gets is from the person he loves not from anyone else.
Not from the stars do i my judgement pluck,
and yet me thinks i have atronomy
but not to tell of good or evil luck
of plagues, of dearths, or seasons quality
norr 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 pridict 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
or else of thy this i prognosticate:
thy end is truth's and beauty's doom and date
