thyme - sonne hagal lyrics
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come, all you fair and tender girls
that flourish in your prime
beware, keep your garden fair
let no man steal your thyme
let no man steal your thyme
for when your time is past and gone
he’ll care no more for you
and in the place your time was waste
shall spread all o’er with rue
shall spread all o’er with rue
spread all o’er with rue
a woman is a branchy tree
and man’s a clinging vine
and from her branches carelessly
he takes what he can find
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