Are you going to Scarbourough 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,
Parsley, sage, Rosemary and thyme.
Without any seam or fine nedlework,
And then she’ll be a true love of mine.
Tell her to wash it yonder dry well,
Parsley, sage, Rosemary and thyme.
Where water ne’er sprung, nor drop of rain fell,
And then she’ll be a true love of mine.
Tell her to dry it 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.
Oh, 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.