My man Thomas

My man  Thomas
Did me promise
He would visit me this night.

I am here, love;
Tell me, dear love,
How I may obtain thy sight.

Come up to my window, love;
Come, come, come:
Come to my window, my dear;
The wind nor the rain
Shall trouble thee again,
But thou shalt be lodged here.

John Fletcher

Fire-fancies by ArthurHacker

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