Part 2 — No 68 STRAWBERRY FAIR

1 As I was going to Strawberry Fair, Singing, singing, Butter-cups and Daisies I met a maiden taking her ware, Fol-de-dee! Her eyes were blue and golden her hair, As she went on to Strawberry Fair, Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-li-do, Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-dee. 2 "Kind Sir, pray pick of my basket!" she said, Singing, &c. "My cherries ripe, or my roses red, Fol-de-dee! My strawberries sweet, I can of them spare, As I go on to Strawberry Fair." Ri-fol &c. 3 Your cherries soon will be wasted away, Singing, &c. Your roses wither and never stay, Tol-de-dee! 'Tis not to seek such perishing ware, That I am tramping to Strawberry Fair. Ri-fol &c. 4 I want to purchase a generous heart, Singing, &c. A tongue that neither is nimble nor tart. Tol-de-dee! An honest mind, but such trifles are rare I doubt if they're found at Strawberry Fair. Ri-fol &c. 5 The price I offer, my sweet pretty maid Singing, &c. A ring of gold on your finger displayed, Tol-de-dee! So come make over to me your ware, In church today at Strawberry Fair. Ri-fol &c.