Let No Man Steal Your Thyme

Divine Pitch Musings

Our latest Divine Pitch project crammed us into Megan’s greenhouse. We had intended to film this folk song in the garden, but inclement weather impeded us. While the greenhouse was small, it did have an interesting resonance and actual thyme as a video prop:

Let No Man Steal Your Thyme - trad. / Megan Ward

Lyrics:

Come all ye 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.

The gardener's son was standing by
Three flowers he gave to me
One pink, one blue and a lilac too
And a red, red, rosy tree,
And a red, red, rosy tree.

I did refuse the red, red, rose
And all the world could see
How the willow grows where the water flows
For my love slighted me,
For my love slighted me.

For woman is a branching tree
And man a clinging vine
And from her branches carelessly
He takes what he can find,
He takes what he can find.

And when your thyme is past and gone
He'll care no more for you
And every place where your thyme was waste
Will spread all over with rue,
Will spread all over with rue.