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"Scarborough Fair" is a traditional English ballad. The song lists a number of impossible tasks given to a former lover who lives in Scarborough, North Yorkshire. The "Scarborough/Whittingham Fair" variant was most common in Yorkshire and Northumbria, where it was sung to various melodies, often using Dorian mode, with refrains resembling "parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme" and "Then she'll be a true love of mine." It appears in Traditional Tunes (1891) by Frank Kidson, who claims to have collected it from Whitby. The melody was collected from Mark Anderson (1874–1953), a retired lead miner from Middleton-in-Teesdale, County Durham, England, by Ewan MacColl in 1947.

The lyrics of "Scarborough Fair" appear to have something in common with a Scottish ballad titled "The Elfin Knight", collected by Francis James Child as Child Ballad #2, which has been traced as far back as 1670. In this ballad, an elf threatens to abduct a young woman to be his lover unless she can perform an impossible task ("For thou must shape a sark to me / Without any cut or heme, quoth he"); she responds with a list of tasks that he must first perform ("I have an aiker of good ley-land / Which lyeth low by yon sea-strand").

the lyrics:
Are you going to Scarborough Fair?
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Remember me to one who lives there,
She once was a true love of mine.

Have her make me a cambric shirt,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Without no seams, nor fine needle work,
Then she'll be a true love of mine.

Tell her to weave it in a sycamore wood lane,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Gather it up in a basket of flowers,
Then she'll be a true love of mine.

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

Tell her to to find me an acre of land,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Between the sea foam and over the sand,
Then she'll be a true love of mine.

Plow the land with the horn of a lamb,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Then sow some seeds from north of the dam,
Then she'll be a true love of mine.

Have her reap it with a sickle of leather,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Gather it up in a bunch of heather,
Then she'll be a true love of mine.

If she tells me she can't, then I'll reply,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Let me know, that at least she will try,
Then she'll be a true love of mine.

Love imposes impossible tasks,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Though not more than any heart asks,
And I must know she's true love of mine.

When thou has finished thy task,
Parsley, sage, rosemary and thyme,
Come to me my hand for to ask,
For then you'll be a true love of mine.