| Come all ye maidens young and fair
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| All you that are bloming in your prime
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| Always be ware and keep your garden fair
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| Let no man steal away your thyme
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| For thyme it is a precious thing
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| And thyme brings all things to my mind
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| Thyme with all its labours along with all its joys
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| Thyme brings all things to my mind
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| Once she had a bunch of thyme
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| She thought it never would decay
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| Then came a lusty sailor who chanced to pass her way
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| He stole her bunch of thyme away
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| The sailor gave to her a rose
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| A rose that never would decay
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| He gave it to her to keep her reminded
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| Of when he stole her thyme away
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| Come all ye maidens young and fair
|
| All you that are bloming in your prime
|
| Always be ware and keep your garden fair
|
| Let no man steal away your thyme
|
| For thyme it is a precious thing
|
| And thyme brings all things to my mind
|
| Thyme with all its labours along with all its joys
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| Thyme brings all things to an end
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| End |