Barbara Allen

'Twas in the merry month of May

When all gay flowers were bloomin'

Sweet William on his death-bed lay

For the love of Barbara Allen

He sent his servant to the town

To the place where she was dwelling

Said, "You must come to my master's house

If your name be Barbara Allen."

So slowly, slowly she gets up

And to his bedside going

She drew the curtains to one side

And says, "Young man, you're a-dying."

"I know, I'm sick and very sick

And sorrow dwells within me

No better, no better I never will be

'Til I have Barbara Allen."

"Don't you remember last Saturday night

When I was at the tavern

You gave your drinks to the ladies all

But you slighted Barbara Allen?"

He reached up his pale white hands

Intending for to touch her

She turned away from his bedside

And says, "Young man I won't have you."

He turned his cheek into the wall

And bursted out a crying

"Adieu to thee, adieu to all

And adieu to Barbara Allen."

She had not more than reached the town

She heard the death bells ringing

And as they rung they seemed to say

"Hard-hearted Barbara Allen."

"Oh Mother, oh mother go make my bed

Make it both long and narrow

Sweet William died for me today

I'll die for him tomorrow."

Sweet William was buried in the old churchyard

And Barbara there laid nigh him

And out of his grave grew a red, red rose

And out of hers, a briar

They grew and grew to the old church gate

Where they could grow no higher

And there they tied in a true love's knot

The rose wrapped 'round the briar