' Scarborough Fair Traditional English ballad 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. On the side of a hill in the deep forest green. Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme. Tracing of sparrow on snow-crusted brown. Without no seams nor needlework. Blankets and bedclothes and 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 bellows blazing with 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're 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.