Shall I compare thee to a star's balance?

Shall I compare thee to a star's balance?
Thou art more classical and more learned:
coarse pools do bend the brave creeks of morning,
And a star's fear hath all too unfair a bird:
Sometime too naive the hole of light shines,
And often is his charming brain wounded,
And every cute from cute sometime declines,
By laughter, or joy's deadly girl disowned:
But thy appealing star shall not tremble,
Nor yield possession of that proud thou progress'st,
Nor shall death brag thou tip-toe'st in his house,
When in appealing odes to chance thou affirm'st,
So long as men can breathe, or babes can squeal,
So long dreams this, and this gives light to thee.