O, where are you going?

To Scarborough fair

Savoury, sage

rosemary, and thyme

Remember me to a lass

who lives there

For once she was

a true love of mine

Hast thou to the fair made thy way?

Where thyme and rue doth verdant stay.

Seek'st thou a token of love, a token so rare,

And whisper her name into the gentle night air.

(O, where are you going?), And tell her to make me,

(To Scarborough fair), a cambric shirt,

(Savoury, sage), Savoury, sage,

(rosemary, and thyme), rosemary, and thyme,

(Remember me to a lass), Without any seam,

(who lives there), without any needlework,

(For once she was), And then she shall be,

(a true love of mine), A true love of mine.

Doth winter's frost bow to spring's first light,

Yet hearts may still linger in endless night.

Find’st thou the spindle where threads doth twine,

And weave this heart gently in tune with thine.

(O, where are you going?), And tell her to make me,

(To Scarborough fair), a cambric shirt,

(Savoury, sage), Savoury, sage,

(rosemary, and thyme), rosemary, and thyme,

(Remember me to a lass), Without any seam,

(who lives there), without any needlework,

(For once she was), And then she shall be,

(a true love of mine), A true love of mine.

Winds carry songs o'er the hills so green,

Where dreams and truth oft meet unseen.

He brought me a garland of bloom most sweet,

And voweth a love upon where two paths did meet.

(O, where are you going?), And tell her to make me,

(To Scarborough fair), a cambric shirt,

(Savoury, sage), Savoury, sage,

(rosemary, and thyme), rosemary, and thyme,

(Remember me to a lass), Without any seam,

(who lives there), without any needlework,

(For once she was), And then she shall be,

(a true love of mine), A true love of mine.