dlock, thank heav'n, but in hell,
and the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.
then satan has travell'd again wi' his pack,
hey, and the rue grows bonie wi' thyme;
and to her auld husband he's carried her back,
and the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.
i hae been a devil the feck o' my life,
hey, and the rue grows bonie wi' thyme;
“but ne'er was iill i met wi' a wife,”
and the thyme it is wither'd, and rue is in prime.