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By Traditional Submitted by Alabama Beggs Date: 2002 Mar 25 Comment on this Work [[2002.03.25.16.50.13465]] |
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In Scarlet town where I was born, There was a fair maid dwellin' Made every youth cry Well-a-day, Her name was Barb'ra Allen. It was in the merry month of May, When green buds all were swellin' Sweet Willam on his death-bed lay, For love of Barb'ra Allen. He sent his servant to the town To the place where she was dwellin' Saying, "You must come to my master, dear, If your name be Barb'ra Allen." So slowly, slowly she got up, And slowly she drew nigh him, And the only words to him did say: "Young man, I think you're dying!" He turned his face unto the wall And death was in him welling, "Good-bye, good-bye, to my friends all, be good to Barb'ra Allen." As she was walking o'er the fields, She heard the death bell knellin', And ev'ry stroke to her did say, "Hard-hearted Barb'ra Allen." Oh, mother, oh mother, go dig my grave, Make it both long and narrow, "Sweet William died of love for me, And I shall die of sorrow." They buried her by the old church tower, Sweet William they buried beside her, Out of Sweet William's heart, there grew a rose From Barb'ra Allen's, a briar. They grew and grew, in the old church yard, Til they could grow no higher, At the end they formed a true lover's knot, And the rose grew 'round the briar. |