Tell her to make me a cambric shirt,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Without a seam nor fine needlework,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.
Tell her to wash it in yonder dry well,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Which never sprung water nor rain ever fell,
And then she'll be 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,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.
Ask her to do me this courtesy,
Parsely, sage, rosemary and thyme,
And ask for a like favor from me,
And then she'll be a true love of mine.