Shakespeare The Bard on Music:
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 and giving odour.
["Twelfth Night" (1.1.1-7)]
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