When I was a maiden fair and young,
I flourished in my prime, prime,
Till a proper tall young man came in
And stole this heart of mine, mine,
And stole this heart of mine.

A gardener's son being standing by,
Three gifts he gave to me, me:
The pink, the rue, the violet blue,
And the red, red rosy tree, tree,
The red, red rosy tree.

Come all you maids where'er you be
That flourish in your prime, prime.
Be wise, beware, be free from care.
Let no man steal your thyme, thyme,
Let no man steal your thyme.

(As sung by the Yellow Autumn Minstrels)
Recorded on LP called Children of the Mist

I used to sing this onstage when my son got fussy, and then after singing it would say something about my young man was about to steal my time.... And then go offstage to tend to his needs....

... Lorraine