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 any seam or fine needlework,
And then she’ll be a true love of mine.
Tell her to wash it in yonder dry well,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
Where water never have sprung, nor drop of rail fell,
And then she’ll be a true love of mine.
Oh, will you find me an arce of land,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
Between the sea foam and the sea sand
Or never be a true love of mine.
Oh, 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.
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 love of mine.