| 1 |
It was in and about the Martinmas time,
When the green leaves were a falling,
That Sir John Gra+eme, in the West Country,
Fell in love with Barbara Allan. |
| 2 |
He sent his men down through the town,
To the place where she was dwelling:
'O haste and come to my master dear,
Gin ye be Barbara Allan.' |
| 3 |
O hooly, hooly rose she up,
To the place where he was lying,
And when she drew the curtain by,
'Young man, I think you're dying.' |
| 4 |
'O it's I'm sick, and very, very sick,
And 'tis a' for Barbara Allan:'
'O the better for me ye's never be,
Tho your heart's blood were a spilling. |
| 5 |
'O dinna ye mind, young man,' said she,
'When ye was in the tavern a drinking,
That ye made the healths gae round and round,
And slighted Barbara Allan?' |
| 6 |
He turnd his face unto the wall,
And death was with him dealing:
'Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all,
And be kind to Barbara Allan.' |
| 7 |
And slowly, slowly raise she up,
And slowly, slowly left him,
And sighing said, she coud not stay,
Since death of life had reft him. |
| 8 |
She had not gane a mile but twa,
When she heard the dead-bell ringing,
And every jow that the dead-bell geid,
It cry'd, Woe to Barbara Allan! |
| 9 |
'O mother, mother, make my bed!
O make it saft and narrow!
Since my love died for me to-day,
I'll die for him to-morrow.' |
