This is the version that will be added to the Digital Tradition. I couldn't find where it came from, and I don't know if it was posted at Mudcat or if it came from elsewhere - I got it from an advance copy of the DT, which still has some technical bugs. Maybe it came from this post - I haven't complared lyrics completely yet.

Anyhow, here it is.
-Joe-

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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