Читать книгу Songs of the West - S. (Sabine) Baring-Gould - Страница 12

Table of Contents

C.J.S.

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1

In my garden grew plenty of Thyme,

It would flourish by night and by day;

O'er the wall came a lad, he took all that I had,

And stole my thyme away.

2

My garden with heartsease was bright,

The pansy so pied and so gay;

One slipped through the gate, and alas! cruel fate,

My heartsease took away.

3

My garden grew self-heal and balm,

And speedwell that's blue for an hour,

Then blossoms again, O grievous my pain!

I'm plundered of each flower.

4

There grows in my garden the rue,

And Love-lies-a-bleeding droops there,

The hyssop and myrrh, the teazle and burr,

In place of blossoms fair.

5

The willow with branches that weep,

The thorn and the cypress tree,

O why were the seeds of such dolorous weeds,

Thus scattered there by thee?