Classic Poem

I had thought, what is it whipping in the wind?
A-whipping, whipping on the window glass?
Is it the ivy hanging from above?
And shaken by the winds that briskly pass?
The ivy is an evergreen,
And does not die in fall,
My lover's love is ever true,
And will not die at all.

I had thought, what is it whipping in the wind?
A-whipping, whipping on the window square?
Is it the holly at the window side?
And shaken by the freshly blowing air?
The holly is an evergreen,
And lives the winter through,
My true love's love will never die,
But standeth ever true.

I had thought, what is it whipping in the wind?
A-whipping, whipping on my window panes?
And 'twas my lover's hand that flipped a twig
Off, broken from the tree of golden chains.
In the duskiness of twilight,
A hand I did not see,
But meant, if you are there, then fling
The casement out for me.

I thought, oh wind, if thou wert very cold,
A warm heart is in the midst of thee,
And thou wilt not bring in to me a storm,
But words, as sweet as ever words can be.
I opened then the casement wide,
Before his welcome smile,
And then we chatted in the dusk
A while, too short a while.