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
A 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
