Scarborough Fair/Canticle

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 a sparrow on snow-crested ground)

Without no seams nor needlework,

(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)

Parsely, sage, rosemary and thyme;

(Washes the grave with so many 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.

Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather:

(War bellows, blazing in scarlet battalions)

Parsely, 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 one who lives there.

She once was a true love of mine.