...no no, baby, it's not mine...
This rough magic
I hear abjure, and,
when I have required
Some heavenly music,
which even now I do,
To work mine end upon
their senses that
This airy charm is for,
I'll break my staff,
Bury it certain fathoms
in the earth,
And deeper than did
ever plummet sound
I'll drown my book.