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STRAWBERRY FAIR As I was going to Strawberry Fair, Singing, singing, buttercups and daisies, I met a maiden taking her wares, fol-de-dee. Her eyes were blue and golden her hair, As she went on to Strawberry Fair. cho: Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-li-do, Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-dee. "Kind sir, pray pick of my basket," she said, Singing, singing, buttercups and daisies. "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." "Your cherries soon will be wasted away," Singing, singing, buttercups and daisies. "Your roses withered and never stay, fol-de-dee. 'Tis not to seek such perishing ware That I am tramping to Strawberry Fair." "I want to purchase a generous heart, Singing, singing, buttercups and daisies. A tongue that neither is nimble nor tart, fol-de-dee, An honest mind, but such trifles are rare. I doubt if they're found at Strawberry Fair. "The price I offer, my sweet pretty maid, Singing, singing, buttercups and daisies, A ring of gold on your finger displayed, fol-de-dee, So come, make over to me your ware In church today at Strawberry Fair." Strawberry Fair is still an annual celebration in Cambridge and in other locations. @kids filename[ STRAWFR NR Feb07 |
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