|
Are you going to Scarborough Fair? |
|
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme, |
|
Remember me to one who lives there, |
|
For once she was a true love of mine. |
|
Tell her to make me a cambric shirt, |
|
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme, |
|
Without no seam nor needlework, |
|
And then she'll be a true love of mine. |
|
Tell her to find me an acre of land, |
|
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme, |
|
Between the salt water and the sea strand, |
|
And then she'll be a true love of mine. |
|
Tell her to plough it with a lamb's horn, |
|
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme, |
|
And to sow it all o'er with one peppercorn, |
|
And then she'll be a true love of mine. |
|
Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather, |
|
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme, |
|
And to thrash it all out with a bunch of heather, |
|
And then she'll be a true love of mine. |
|
Are you going to Scarborough Fair? |
|
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme, |
|
Remember me to one who lives there, |
|
For once she was a true love of mine. |