Come, all you fair and tender girls

That flourish in your prime

Beware, beware, keep your garden fair



Let no man steal your thyme

Let no man steal your thyme



For when your thyme it is past and gone

He'll care no more for you

And every place where your time was waste



Will all spread all over with rue

Will all spread all over with rue



The gardeners son was standing by

three flowers he gave to me



the pink the blue and the violet true

and the red red rosey tree

and the red red rosey tree



But i refused the red rose bush

and gained the willow tree

that all the world may plainly see



how my love slighted me

how my love slighted me