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Twas in the merry month of May |
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When green buds all were swelling, |
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Sweet William on his death bed lay |
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For love of Barbara Allen. |
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He sent his servant to the town |
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To the place where she was dwelling, |
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Saying you must come, to my master dear |
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If your name be Barbara Allen. |
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So slowly, slowly she got up |
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And slowly she drew nigh him, |
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And the only words to him did say |
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Young man I think you're dying. |
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He turned his face unto the wall |
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And death was in him welling, |
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Good-bye, good-bye, to my friends all |
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Be good to Barbara Allen. |
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When he was dead and laid in grave |
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She heard the death bells knelling |
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And every stroke to her did say |
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Hard hearted Barbara Allen. |
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Oh mother, oh mother go dig my grave |
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Make it both long and narrow, |
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Sweet William died of love for me |
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And I will die of sorrow. |
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And father, oh father, go dig my grave |
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Make it both long and narrow, |
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Sweet William died on yesterday |
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And I will die tomorrow. |
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Barbara Allen was buried in the old churchyard |
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Sweet William was buried beside her, |
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Out of sweet William's heart, there grew a rose |
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Out of Barbara Allen's a briar. |
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They grew and grew in the old churchyard |
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Till they could grow no higher |
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At the end they formed, a true lover's knot |
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And the rose grew round the briar. |
