Dave Van Ronk
Sprig of Thyme
Come all you sweet and fair young maids
Who flourish in your prime
Be sure and keep your garden clean
Let no man take your thyme

My thyme it is all blown away
I cannot plant a new
In the place where my thyme stood
It's all blown a' lovin' you

In June come incoherent a prim rose flower
But that is not for me
I will poof my prim rose flower and plant
A willow tree

Oh willow tree, willow
Will sorrows mixed our incoherent
Do tell to all this wide white well
Incoherent