The Gardener
Proud Margret stood at her father's doorway
As straight as willow wand
And by there came a gardener bold
With red rose in his hand
O you shall have my rose, fair maiden
If you give your flower to me
Among the flowers in your father's garden
I'll make a gown for thee
Your gown shall be sweet smelling thyme
Your apron celandine
Your petticoat of the chamomile
Come kiss sweetheart and join
Your glove shall be of the clover flower
Your shoes of the rue so fine
I'll line them with the cornflower blue
So join your love with mine
So join your love with mine
Since you have made a gown for me
Among the summer flowers
So I will make a suit for thee
Among the winter showers
The milk-white snow will be your shirt
That lies your body next
And the night-black rain will be your coat
With the wind gale at your breast
The horse that you shall ride upon
Will be of the wintry grey
And every time that you pass by
I'll wish you were away
I'll wish you were away
