If music be the food of love, play on ; Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting, The appetite may sicken, and so die. That strain again ! it had a dying fall : O ! it came o'er my ear like the sweet sound That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing...
The Plays of William Shakespeare: Accurately Printed from the Text of the ... - Page 5
by William Shakespeare - 1805
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