|
Thyme it is a precious thing
Thyme brings all things to your mind
Thyme with all its labors, along with all its joys
And its thyme brings all things to an end.
Once I had a sprig of thyme
I thought it never would decay
Until a saucy sailor chanced upon my way
And he stole away my bonny bunch of thyme:
This sailor, he gave to me a rose
I thought it never would decay
He gave it to me to keep me well minded
Of the night he stole my bonny bunch of thyme:
So come all you maidens brisk and gay
All you that flourish in your prime
Beware and take care and keep your garden fair
And let no man steal your bonny bunch of thyme:
|