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 XXVI.

Though dusty wits dare scorn astrology; And fools can think those lamps of purest light— Whose number, ways, greatness, eternity, Promising wonders; wonder do invite— To have, for no cause, birthright in the sky; But for to spangle the black weeds of Night: Or for some brawl, which in that chamber high, They should still dance to please a gazer's sight. For me, I do Nature unidle know; And know great causes, great effects procure; And know those bodies high reign on the low: And if these rules did fail, proof makes me sure. Who oft fore-judge my after-following race, By only those two stars in STELLA'S face.

XXVII.

Because I oft in dark abstracted guise, Seem most alone in greatest company; With dearth of words, or answers quite awry, To them that would make speech of speech arise. They deem, and of their doom the rumour flies, That poison foul of bubbling pride doth lie So in my swelling breast; that only I Fawn on me self, and others do despise. Yet pride, I think, doth not my soul possess, Which looks too oft in his unflattering glass: But one worse fault, ambition, I confess, That makes me oft my best friends overpass Unseen, unheard; while thought to highest place Bends all his powers, even to STELLA'S grace.