| 1 |
Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
Remember me to one that lives there,
For once she was a true love of mine. |
| 2 |
Tell her to make me a cambric shirt,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
Without a stitch of needlework,
For once she was a true love of mine. |
| 3 |
Tell her to wash it in yonder dry well,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
Where water ne'er sprung, nor drop of rain fell,
For once she was a true love of mine. |
| 4 |
Tell her to dry it on yonder thorn,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
Which never bore blossom since Adam was born,
And then she'll be a true love of mine. |
| 5 |
O, will you find me an acre of land,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
Between the sea foam and the sea sand,
Or never be a true love of mine. |
| 6 |
O, will you plough it with a lamb's horn,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
And sow it all over with one peppercorn,
Or never be a true love of mine. |
| 7 |
O, will you reap it with a sickle of leather,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
And tie it all up with a peacock's feather,
Or never be a true love of mine. |
| 8 |
And when you have done and finished your work,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
Then come to me for your cambric shirt,
And you shall be a true lover of mine. |
