• 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 as it was before.

    William Shakespeare: 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 as it was before.
    'Twelfth Night' (1601) act 1, sc. 1, l. 1