Bunch Of Thyme

Come all ye maidens young and fair
All those who are blooming in their prime
Always beware and keep your garden fair
Let no man steal away your thyme

For thyme it is a precious thing
And thyme brings all things to my mind
Thyme with all its labours
Along with all its joys
Thyme brings all things to an end

Once I had a bunch of thyme
I thought it never would decay
When along came a lusty sailor
Who chanced to pass my way
He stole my bunch of thyme away

But the sailor gave to me a rose
A rose that never would decay
He gave it to me to keep me well minded
Of when he stole my thyme away

So come all ye maidens young and fair
All those blooming in their prime
Always beware and keep your garden fair
Let no man steal away your thyme

For thyme it is a precious thing
And thyme brings all things to my mind
Thyme with all its labours
Along with all its joys
Thyme brings all things to an end
Yes thyme brings all things to an end