I sowed the seeds of love,
'Twas early in the Spring,
In April and May, and in June likewise,
The small birds they do sing.

My garden is well planted
With flowers everywhere,
But I had not the liberty to choose for myself
Of the flowers that I loved dear.

My gardener he stood by,
I asked him to choose for me;
He chose me the violet, the lily and the pink,
But these I refused all three.

The violet I forsook
Because it fades so soon.
The lily and the pink I did overlook
And vowed I'd stay till June.

For the willow tree will twist
And the willow tree will twine,
I wish I was in a young man's arms
That once had this heart of mine.

My gardener he stood by,
And he told me to take good care;
For in the middle of the red rosebud
There grew a sharp thorn there.

I told him I'd take no care
Until I felt the smart.
I pulled and I plucked at the red rosebud
Till it pierced me to my heart.

I locked up my garden gate,
Resolving to keep the key,
But a young man came a-courting me
And he stole my heart away.

My garden is over-run
No flowers in it grew,
For the beds that was once covered with sweet thyme
They are now over-run with rue.

Come all you false young men
That leave me here to complain
For the grass that is now trodden under foot
In time it will rise again.