so I searched for you,
And this is the best of what I got precious

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 sound
That breathes upon a bank of violets,
Stealing and giving odour.
(Twelfth Night, 1.1.1-7)

Preposterous ass, that never read so far
To know the cause why music was ordain'd!
Was it not to refresh the mind of man
After his studies or his usual pain?
(The Taming of the Shrew, 3.1.10-13), Lucentio

What did thy song bode, lady?
Hark, canst thou hear me? I will play the swan,
And die in music:—
Willow, willow, willow.
(Othello, 5.2.292-5)

Mark how one string, sweet husband to another,
Strikes each in each by mutual ordering;
Resembling sire and child and happy mother,
Who, all in one, one pleasing note do sing.
Sonnet 8

Give me some music; music, moody food
Of us that trade in love.
(Antony and Cleopatra, 2.5.1-2)

Thou remember'st
Since once I sat upon a promontory,
And heard a mermaid on a dolphin's back
Uttering such dulcet and harmonious breath,
That the rude sea grew civil at her song,
And certain stars shot madly from their spheres
To hear the sea-maid's music.
(A Midsummer Night's Dream, 2.1.153-9)