Strawberry Fair is an English folk song (Roud Folk Song Index 173). The song was collected by H. Fleetwood Sheppard in Broadstone, Devon, in 1891. The text may have been re-written by Sabine Baring Gould and Fleetwood Sheppard.

Lyrics

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. "Kind Sir, pray pick of my basket!" she said, Singing, singing, Butter-cups 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." Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-li-do, Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-dee. "Your cherries soon will be wasted away;" Singing, singing, Butter-cups and Daisies "Your roses wither'd and never stay, Fol-de-dee. 'Tis not to seek such perishing ware That I am tramping to Strawberry Fair." Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-li-do, Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-dee. I want to purchase a generous heart, Singing, singing, Butter-cups and Daisies A tongue that neither is nimble or tart. Tol-de-dee! An honest mind, but such trifles are rare I doubt if they're found at Strawberry Fair. Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-li-do, Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-dee. The price I offer, my sweet pretty maid Singing, singing, Butter-cups and Daisies 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, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-li-do, Ri-fol, Ri-fol, Tol-de-riddle-dee.

Versions