A History of Ireland in Song |
Come all ye maidens young and fair
All you that are blooming in your prime
Always beware and keep your garden fair
Let no man steal away your thyme.
Chorus:
For thyme it is a precious thing
And thyme brings all things to my mind
Thyme, with all its flavours
Along with all its joys
Thyme, brings all things to my mind.
Once I had a bunch of thyme
I thought it never would decay
Then came a lusty sailor
Who chanced to pass my way
And stole my bunch of thyme away.
(Chorus)
The sailor gave to me a rose
A rose that never would decay
He gave it to me
To keep me reminded
Of when he stole my thyme away.
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Last modified Monday 18th September 2006
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