Nisida.
Then give it me, for here
In this tranquil forest sphere,
Where the boughs and blossoms blent,
Ruby blooms and emerald stems,
Round about their radiance fling,
Where the canopy of spring
Breathes of flowers and gleams with gems,
Here I wish that air to play,
Which to words that Cynthia wrote
I have set—a simple note.
Chloris.
And the song, señora, say,
What 's the theme?
Nisida.
A touching strain,—
How a nightingale in a grove
Singing sweetly of his love,
Sang its pleasure and its pain.
Enter Cynthia (reading in a book).
Cynthia (to herself).
Whilst each alley here discloses
Youthful nymphs, who as they pass
To Diana's shrine, the grass
Turn to beds of fragrant roses,—
Where the interlacéd bars
Of these woods their beauty dowers
Seem a verdant sky of flowers—
Seem an azure field of stars.
I shall here recline and read
(While they wander through the grove)
Ovid's Remedy of Love.
Nisida (to Chloris).
Hear the words and air.