Come all you maidens young and fair, all you that are bloomin' in your prime
O 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
O thyme with all its flavors along with all its joys
Thyme brings all things to an end.
 

O once I had a bunch of thyme, I thought it never would decay

But on came a lusty sailor who chanced to pass that way
He stole my bunch of thyme away.
 
The sailor gave to me a rose, a rose that never will decay
He gave it to me, to keep me well-minded
Of when he stole the thyme away.
 
(chorus), (first verse), (chorus).