LET NO MAN STEAL YOUR THYME
(learned from Linda Allen in 1957)
Come all ye fair and tender maids
That flourish in your prime, prime
Take care, take care, make your garden fair
Let no man steal your thyme, thyme
Let no man steal your thyme
For woman is a branch-ed tree
And man a singing wind, wind
And from her branches carelessly
He'll take what he can find, find
He'll take what he can find
And when your thyme is past and gone
He'll care no more for you, you
And every day your garden lies waste
It will cover all over with rue, rue
It will cover all over with rue
(from miriam berg's folksong collection)