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 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;
                            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.
                              Sleeps unaware of the clarion call.

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.
 
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