Tell me why

Tell me why, my charming fair,

Tell me why you thus deny me.

Can despair of these sighs and looks of care

Make Corinna ever fly me?

O Mirtillo! you're above me;

I respect but dare not love ye.

She who hears, inclines to sin,

Who parleys half gives up the town,

And ravenous love soon enters in,

When once the out-work's beaten down:

Then my sighs and tears won't move ye,

No Mirtillo, you're above me;

I respect but dare not love ye.

Could this lovely, charming maid

Think Mirtillo would deceive her?

Could Corinna be afraid

She by him should be betray'd?

No, too well, I love her,

Therefore cannot be above her.

O let love with love be paid.

My heart, my life, my all I give her.

Let me now receive her.

Oh! how gladly we believe,

When the heart is too, too willing:

Can that look, that face deceive?

Can he take delight in killing?

Ah! I die if you deceive me.

Yet I will believe ye.