Tell me, maiden, why my breast
still unconscious heaves a sigh,
why my heart will never rest,
when thy beauteous form is nigh.
Surely what I feel is love,
emulating joys above.

Maiden, are those eyes on me
with true affection shining,
or my heart in pity free
from secret anguish pining.
Sweetest maiden, quickly give
consenting smiles, and I live!