english

The Library of Congress Lyrical Legacy

BONNY BARBARA ALLAN. IT was in and about the Martimas time, When the green leaves were a falling, That Sir John Graeme in the west country Fell in love with Barbara Allan. He sent his man down through the town, To the place where she was dwelling, O haste, and come to my master dear, Gin ye be Barbara Allan. 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. O it’s I’m sick, and 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. O dinna ye mind, young man, said she, When ye was in the tavern a drinking, That ye made the healths gae round & round And slighted Barbara Allan. He turn’d his face unto the wall, And death was with him dealing; Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all, And be kind to Barbara Allan. And slowly, slowly rose she up, And slowly, slowly left him; And sighing, said, she could not stay, Since death of life had reft him. She had not gane a mile but twa, When she heard the death-bell ringing, And every jow that the dead-bell gied, It cry’d, Wo to Barbara Allan. O mother, mother, make my bed, O make it saft and narrow, Since my love dy’d for me to-day, I’ll die for him to-morrow.

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