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. |
