If music be the food of love ...

... sing on till I am fill'd with joy;
for then my list'ning soul you move
with pleasures that can never cloy,
your eyes, your mien, your tongue declare
that you are music ev'rywhere.

Pleasures invade both eye and ear,
so fierce the transports are, they wound,
and all my senses feasted are,
tho' yet the treat is only sound.
Sure I must perish by our charms,
unless you save me in your arms.

by Colonel Henry Heveningham

Feeling a bit devoid of blipinspiration today. Last night was fun, but tiring and, after a full day of teaching, I am ready to plop onto the sofa, crack open a bottle of wine and relax.