Just listened to the song again, slight variations on Jeri's transcription, and it resolves the slight oddness in the last verse which was previously mentioned.
SWEET THYME (Pete Mundey)
In the springtime of the year, I loved and lost my dear, For love grows wild when the weather it is mild, As you shall quickly hear.
CHORUS Sweet thyme, sweet thyme, The parsley and the thyme, The rosemary and the willow tree, Around my heart entwine.
Now in comes sweet July, When the nightingales do fly, And sweethearts play all in the hay, And the pale moon fills the sky.
And the harvest's golden grain, Is gathered in again, And the turning year will bring my dear An end to all my pain.
In winter's cloak of gray, I'll find a brighter day, And I'll not wait when summer's at the gate, Farewell false love, away.