Scarborough Fair

    

     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.
    On the side of a hill in the deep forest green.
    Tracing of sparrow on snow-crested brown.
    Blankets and bedclothes the child of the mountain.
    Sleeps unaware of the clarion call.
    Tell her to make me a cambric shirt.
    Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.
    Withour no seams nor needle work.
    Then she'll be a true love of mine.
    On the side of a hill a sprinking of leaves.
    Washes the grave with silvery tears.
    A soldier cleans and polishes a gun.
    Sleeps unaware of the clarion call.
    Tell her to find me an acre of land:
    Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme;
    Between the salt water and the sea strand.
    Then she'll be a true love of mine.
    War bellows blazing in scarlet battalions.
    Generals order their soldiers to kill.
    And to fight for a cause they've long ago forgotten.
    Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather:
    Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme;
    And gather it all in a bunch of heather,
    Then she'll be a true love of mine.

 

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