| Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
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| Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
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| Remember me to one who lives there
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| For once she was a true love of mine
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| Have her make me a cambric shirt
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| Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
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| Without no seam nor fine needle work
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| And then she’ll be a true love of mine
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| Tell her to weave it in a sycamore wood lane
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| Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
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| And gather it all with a basket of flowers
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| And then she’ll be a true love of mine
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| Have her wash it in yonder dry well
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| Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
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| where water ne’er sprung nor drop of rain fell
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| And then she’ll be a true love of mine
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| Have her find me an acre of land
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| Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
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| Between the sea foam and over the sand
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| And then she’ll be a true love of mine
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| Plow the land with the horn of a lamb
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| Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
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| Then sow some seeds from north of the dam
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| And then she’ll be a true love of mine
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| Tell her to reap it with a sickle of leather
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| Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
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| And gather it all in a bunch of heather
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| And then she’ll be a true love of mine
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| If she tells me she can’t, I’ll reply
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| Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
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| Let me know that at least she will try
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| And then she’ll be a true love of mine
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| Love imposes impossible tasks
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| Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
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| Though not more than any heart asks
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| And I must know she’s a true love of mine
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| Dear, when thou has finished thy task
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| Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme
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| Come to me, my hand for to ask
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| For thou then art a true love of mine |