Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary
and thyme.
Remember me to one who lives there.
She once was a true love of
mine.
Tell her to make me a cambric shirt,
(A hill in the deep forest
green)
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
(Tracing of sparrow on
snow-crested brown)
Without no seams nor needle work,
(Blankets and
bedclothes the child of the mountain)
Then she'll be a true love of
mine.
(Sleeps unaware of the clarion call)
Tell her to find me an acre
of land,
(On the side of a hill a sprinkling of leaves)
Parsley, sage,
rosemary and thyme;
(Washes the grave with silvery tears)
Between the salt
water and the sea strand,
(A soldier cleans and polishes a gun)
Then
she'll be a true love of mine.
(Sleeps unaware of the clarion
call)
Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather,
(War bellows
blazing in scarlet battalions)
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
(General
order their soldiers to kill)
And gather it all in a bunch of
heather,
(And to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten)
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.
She once was
a true love of mine.