Out of her favour, where I am in love.
Come, and take choice of all my library, And so beguile thy sorrow.
Leave us to our free election.
I can call spirits from the vasty deep.
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank Here we will sit, and let the sounds of music Creep in our ears; soft stillness, and the night Become the touches of sweet harmony
You have witchcraft in your lips