Whittingham Fair


Whittingham Fair


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Are you going to Whittingham fair,
    Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme;
Remember me to one who lives there,
    For once she was a true love of mine.

Tell her to make me a cambric shirt,
    Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme;
Without any seam or needlework,
    For once she was a true love of mine.

Tell her to wash it in yonder well,
    Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme;
Where never spring water nor rain ever fell,
    For once she was a true love of mine.

Tell her to dry it on yonder thorn,
    Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme;
Which never bore blossom since Adam was born,
    For once she was a true love of mine.

Now he has asked me questions three,
    Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme;
I hope he will answer as many for me,
    For once he was a true love of mine.

Tell him to find me an acre of land,
    Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme;
Betwixt the salt water and the sea sand,
    For once he was a true love of mine.

Tell him to plough it with a ram's horn,
    Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme;
And sow it all over with one pepper corn,
    For once he was a true love of mine.

Tell him to reap it with a sickle of leather,
    Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme;
And bind it up with a peacock's feather,
    For once he was a true love of mine.

When he has done and finished his work,
    Parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme;
O tell him come and he'll have his shirt,
    For once he was a true love of mine.
Copyright in public domain.

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