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 south, That breathes upon a bank of violets, Stealing... Twelfth night. Winter's tale - Página 5por William Shakespeare - 1788Visualização integral
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Jennifer Mulherin, William Shakespeare, Abigail Frost - 2004 - 164 páginas
...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. Enough, no more; 'Tis not so sweet now as it was before. Act i Sci Orsino, Duke of Illyria, listens to music and talks about love. He is melancholy because...