Let No Man Steal Your Thyme Lyrics

Come all you fair and tender girls
That flourish in your prime, prime,
Beware, beware, keep your garden fair
And let no man steal your thyme, thyme,
Let no man steal your thyme.
For when your thyme is past and gone
He'll care no more for you, you.
For every place that your thyme was waste
Will all spread o'er with rue, rue,
Will all spread o'er with rue.
The gardener's son, he was standing by,
Three flowers he gave to me, me.
The pink, the blue and the violet too
And the red, red rosy tree, tree,
And the red, red rosy tree.

But I forsook the red rose bush
And gained the willow tree, tree,
That all the world may plainly see
How my love slighted me, me
How my love slighted me.
For woman is a lofty tree
And man's a clinging vine, vine,
And from her branches carelessly
He'll take what he can find, find,
He'll take what he can find.