Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck

SONNET DCCXXIX

Not from the stars do I my judgement pluck;
So far from variation or quick change?
For then despite of space I would be brought,
Uttering bare truth, even so as foes commend.
Return forgetful Muse, and straight redeem,
Plods dully on, to bear that weight in me,
Which in my bosom's shop is hanging still,
To any sensual feast with thee alone:
Against that time do I ensconce me here,
Not wondering at the present nor the past,
Since sweets and beauties do themselves forsake
Mark how with my neglect I do dispense:
  Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not,
  No longer yours, than you your self here live:

SONNET CCCXIV

And therefore mayst without attaint o'erlook
Nor think the bitterness of absence sour,
Him in thy course untainted do allow
When I was certain o'er incertainty,
Then others, for the breath of words respect,
Suspect I may, yet not directly tell;
Upon that blessed wood whose motion sounds
When to unseeing eyes thy shade shines so!
And to this false plague are they now transferr'd.
As 'Truth and beauty shall together thrive,
And says in him thy fair appearance lies.
Of mouthed graves will give thee memory;
  That is so proud thy service to despise,
  And each doth good turns now unto the other: