Lyrics Scarborough Fair - Martin Carthy

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 no seam nor needlework,
And then she′ll be a true love of mine.
Tell her to find me an acre of land,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Between the salt water and the sea strand,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.
Tell her to plough it with a lamb′s horn,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
And to sow it all o'er with one peppercorn,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.
Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
And to thrash it all out with a bunch of heather,
And 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,
For once she was a true love of mine.