The wild mountain thyme that grows around my door
Has grown there for two score years or more
And I've grown weary waiting for love to say
"Come my way, come my way."
The brook that sings and twinkles in the sun
Has danced this mercy dance since time begun
But o how weary and how long the day will he say
"Come my way."
Lovers all around, I wish you joy
Happiness to every girl and boy.
But sometimes spare a thought of me and say
Metro UK | 21 Jul 2019
Deccan Chronicle | 22 Jul 2019
South China Morning Post | 21 Jul 2019
Bitcoin | 22 Jul 2019
The Star | 22 Jul 2019
This is Money | 22 Jul 2019