| IN Scarlet town, where I was born, | |
| There was a fair maid dwellin', | |
| Made every youth cry Well-a-way! | |
| Her name was Barbara Allen. | |
| |
| All in the merry month of May, | 5 |
| When green buds they were swellin', | |
| Young Jemmy Grove on his death-bed lay, | |
| For love of Barbara Allen. | |
| |
| He sent his man in to her then, | |
| To the town where she was dwellin', | 10 |
| 'O haste and come to my master dear, | |
| If your name be Barbara Allen.' | |
| |
| So slowly, slowly rase she up, | |
| And slowly she came nigh him, | |
| And when she drew the curtain by— | 15 |
| 'Young man, I think you're dyin'.' | |
| |
| 'O it 's I am sick and very very sick, | |
| And it 's all for Barbara Allen.' | |
| 'O the better for me ye'se never be, | |
| Tho' your heart's blood were a-spillin'! | 20 |
| |
| 'O dinna ye mind, young man,' says she, | |
| 'When the red wine ye were fillin', | |
| That ye made the healths go round and round, | |
| And slighted Barbara Allen?' | |
| |
| He turn'd his face unto the wall, | 25 |
| And death was with him dealin': | |
| 'Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all, | |
| And be kind to Barbara Allen!' | |
| |
| As she was walking o'er the fields, | |
| She heard the dead-bell knellin'; | 30 |
| And every jow the dead-bell gave | |
| Cried 'Woe to Barbara Allen.' | |
| |
| 'O mother, mother, make my bed, | |
| O make it saft and narrow: | |
| My love has died for me to-day, | 35 |
| I'll die for him to-morrow. | |
| |
| 'Farewell,' she said, 'ye virgins all, | |
| And shun the fault I fell in: | |
| Henceforth take warning by the fall | |
| Of cruel Barbara Allen.' | 40 |
