Barbara Allen

It was in the merry month of May

when flowers

were a-blooming. Sweet Willie on his

deathbed lay for the love of Barbara

Allen.

He sent his servant to the town, the town

where she did dwell in, saying,

"Master dear has

sent me here if your name be Barbara

Allen."

Then slowly, slowly she got up and slowly

she went to him. And all she said when

she got there, "Young man,

I think you're dying.

Oh, don't you remember the other day

when we were

in the tavern? You drank a health to the

ladies there and slighted Barbara Allen."

[folksy music] He turned his face unto the

wall.

He turned his back upon her. "Adieu,

adieu to all my friends.

Be kind to Barbara

Allen." She went on through

and through the town.

She heard his death bells ringing.

And every stroke they seemed to say, "Oh,

cruel

Barbara Allen."

She looked to the east.

She looked to the west.

She saw his corpse a-coming. "Oh, set

him down for me," she cried,

"that I may gaze

upon him." The more she looked,

the more she

grieved. She bursted out to crying,

saying,

"Pick me up and carry me home,

for I feel like

I am dying."

[folksy music] They buried Willie in the

old churchyard and

Barbara in the new one. And from Willie's

grave there grew a rose,

and from Barbara's a green

brier. They grew,

they grew to the old church

wall and could not grow any higher.

And there they tied in a true love's knot,

the rosebush

and the brier.