Robert Bridges, ed. (1844–1930). The Spirit of Man: An Anthology. 1916. | | | | The opening lines of Twelfth-Night |
William Shakespeare (1564–1616) |
| | | IF 1 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 south | 5 |
| That breathes upon a bank of violets, | |
| Stealing and giving odour. Enough; no more: | |
| ’Tis not so sweet now as it was before. | |
| O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou, | |
| That, notwithstanding thy capacity | 10 |
| Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there, | |
| Of what validity and pitch soe’er, | |
| But falls into abatement and low price, | |
| Even in a minute: so full of shapes is fancy, | |
| That it alone is high fantastical. | 15 |
|
|
