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Scarborough Fair/Canticle, provided with The Elfin Knight, Whittingham Fair and Rosemary Lane, and with an Appendix on Riddles Wisely Expounded

Simon & Garfunkel
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E1. ROSEMARY LANE
Are you going to Whittingham Fair?
    Savoury, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Remember me to one who lives there,
    She once was a true lover of mine.

Tell her to make me a cambric shirt,
    Savoury, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Without any stitches or needlework,
    Then she'll be a true lover of mine.

Tell her to wash it in yonder dry well,
    Savoury, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Where water ne'er sprung nor a drop of rain fell,
    Then she'll be a true lover of mine.

Tell her to hang it on yonder thorn,
    Savoury, sage, rosemary and thyme,
That never bore blossom since Adam was born,
    Then she'll be a true lover of mine.

Now he has asked me questions three,
    Savoury, sage, rosemary and thyme,
I hope that he'll answer as many for me,
    Then he'll be a true lover of mine.

Tell him to find me an acre of land,
    Savoury, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Betwixt the salt water and the sea sand,
    Then he'll be a true lover of mine.

Tell him to plough it with a ram's horn,
    Savoury, sage, rosemary and thyme,
And sow it all over with one peppercorn,
    Then he'll be a true lover of mine.

Tell him to reap it with a sickle of leather,
    Savoury, sage, rosemary and thyme,
And tie it all up with a peacock's feather,
    Then he'll be a true lover of mine.

When he has done and finished his work,
    Savoury, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Well, tell him to come and tear up his shirt,
    And he'll be a true lover of mine.
As you will go down Rosemary Lane,
    Where every rose grows merry and fine,
Oh, you'll pick me out the finest girl there,
    And I will make her a true lover of mine.

Oh, tell her to get me a camberic shirt,
    Every rose grows merry and fine,
To be done without needle or needle's work,
    And then she will be a true lover of mine.

And tell her to wash it in yonder well,
    Every rose grows merry and fine,
Where water ne'er sprung nor rain never fall,
    Then she will be a true lover of mine.

And tell her to dry it on yonder sharp thorn,
    Every rose grows merry and fine,
For one of her rose since Adam was born,
    Then she will be a true lover of mine.

When she is finished all of her work,
    Every rose grows merry and fine,
Oh, tell her I'll got her camberic shirt,
    Then she will be a true lover of mine.

And as you will go down Rosemary Lane,
    Where every rose grows merry and fine,
Oh, you'll pick me out the finest boy there,
    And I will make him a true lover of mine.

Tell him to get me an acre of land,
    Every rose grows merry and fine,
Between the salt sea and the salt-sea sand,
    And then he will be a true lover of mine.

Tell him to plough it with a ram's horn,
    Every rose grows merry and fine,
And sow it all over with one ben of corn,
    Then he will be a true lover of mine.

Tell him to reap it with a cock's feather,
    Every rose grows merry and fine,
And bind it all over with strappings of leather,
    Then he will be a true lover of mine.

And tell him to drive home on a snail,
    Every rose grows merry and fine,
And thrash it all over with a mouse's tail,
    And then he will be a true lover of mine.

And when he has finished all of his work,
    Every rose grows merry and fine,
Oh, tell him to call for his camberic shirt,
    And then he will be a true lover of mine.



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