Are you going to Scarborough fair; parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.
Remember me to the one who lives there, she once was a true love of mine.
Tell her to make me a chambric shirt.
(on the side of 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 bed clothes, 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 strands,
(a soldier cleans and polishes a gun)
Then she’ll be a true love of mine.
Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather,
(war bellow blazing in scarlet battalions)
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme.
(generals 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 the one who lives there, she once was a true love of mine.
Traditional English ballad. This version was likely written in the 19th century.
Performed by Simon and Garfunkle – Album: Parsley, Sage, Rosemary and Thyme (1966)