West Of Roan - Let No One Steal Your Thyme

Come all you fair and tender maids
Who flourish in your prime
Beware, beware, if your garden is fair
Let no-one steal your thyme
Let no-one steal your thyme

For when your time it has passed and gone
He'll care no more for you
And every place where your time was waste
Will grow all o'er with rue
Will grow all o'er with rue

The gardener's son was passing by
Three flowers he gave to me
The pink, the blue, and the violet true
And the red, red, rosy tree
And the red, red, rosy tree

But I refused the red rose bush
And gained the willow tree
That all the world will plainly see
How my love slighted me
How my love slighted me