Tempest Thoughts

I.

...But this rough magic
I here abjure, and when I have required
some heavenly music....
I'll drown my book

Shakespeare's The Tempest 5.1.50-52,57

II.

Where the bee sucks, there suck I.
In a cowslip's bell I lie;
There I couch when owls do cry.
On the bat's back I do fly
After summer merrily.
Merrily, merrily shall I live now
Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.

The Tempest 5.1.88-94

III.

"...like this captious bee you will die from the world and sink into oblivion."

(See the last lines of the first poem in G. Guddding's book entitled "A Defense of Poetry" which I may misquote as I currently do not have a copy of it in front of me.)