Fill his mind with sweet content.
RINALDO.
Hark! the turtle-dove is calling,
And the nightingale replies;
Wat'ry flakes and jets are falling,
Mingling with their melodies.
But all of them say:
Her only we mean;
But all fly away,
As soon as she's seen,—
The beauteous young maiden,
With graces so rife,
Then lily and rose