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, his hand
With red rose in his hand

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, for thee
I'll make a gown for thee

And it shall be of sweet smelling thyme
Your apron celandine
Your petticoat of the chamomile
Come kiss sweetheart and join, and join
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, 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 showers
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, your breast
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, away
I'll wish you were away