Another poem I’ve always enjoyed.
Oh, in the merry month of May
When all things were a-blooming
Sweet William came from the Western states
And courted Barbara Allan
And he took sick, and very sick
And sent for Barbara Allan
And all she said when she got there,
“Young man you are a-dying.”
“Oh yes, I’m sick, and I’m very sick,
And I think that death’s upon me.
But one sweet kiss from Barbara’s lips
Will save me from my dying.”
“But don’t you remember the other day
When you were down in town a-drinking?
You drank your health to the ladies all around
And slighted Barbara Allan.”
“Oh yes, I remember the other day
When I was down in town a-drinking.
I drank my health to the ladies all ‘round
But my love to Barbara Allan.”
He turned his face to the wall,
And she turned her back upon him.
And the last word she heard him say was
“Hard-hearted Barbara Allan.”
And as she passed through London Town
She heard some bells a-ringing
And every bell, it seemed to say
“Hard-hearted Barbara Allan”
She then passed on to a country road
And heard some birds a-singing
And every bird, it seemed to say
“Hard-hearted Barbara Allan”
She hadn’t got more than a mile from town
When she saw his corpse a-coming
“Oh bring him here, ease him down,
And let me look upon him.”
“Oh take him away! Oh take him away!
For I am sick and dying.
His death-cold features say to me,
‘Hard-hearted Barbara Allan’”
“Oh Father, oh Father, go dig my grave
And make it long and narrow
Sweet William died for me today
I’ll die for him tomorrow.”
They buried them both in the old graveyard
All side and side each other
A red, red rose grew out of his grave
And a green briar out of hers-
They grew and grew so very high
That they could grow no higher
They lapped, they tied in a truelove knot-
The rose ran ‘round the briar.
