Arthur Quiller-Couch, ed. 1919. The Oxford Book of English Verse: 1250–1900.
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. | |
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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. | |
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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.’ | |
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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’.’ | |
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‘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 |
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‘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?’ | |
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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!’ | |
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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.’ | |
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‘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. | |
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‘Farewell,’ she said, ‘ye virgins all, | |
And shun the fault I fell in: | |
Henceforth take warning by the fall | |
Of cruel Barbara Allen.’ | 40 |