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 is past and gone He'll care no more for you And in the place your time was waste Will spread all over with rue Will spread all over with rue
For woman is a branchy tree And man's a clinging vine And from her branches carelessly He'll take what he can find He'll take what he can find He'll take what he can find.