Barbara Allen
Twas in the merry month of MayThe green buds were a swellingSweet William on his death bed layFor the love of Barbara Allen
He sent his servant unto herTo the place where she was dwellingSaying you must come to his bedside nowIf your name be Barbara Allen
So slowly, slowly she got upAnd slowly she drew nigh himAnd the only words to him she saidYoung man I think you're dying
As she walked slowly o'er fieldsShe heard the death bell knellingAnd with every stroke it seemed to sayHardhearted Barbara Allen
Oh mother, mother make my bedMake it long and narrowSweet William died for me todayAnd I will die for him tomorrow
They buried her in the old churchyardThey buried him beside herAnd from his grave grew a red, red roseAnd from her grave a green briar
They grew and grew to the steeple topTill they could not grow higherAnd there they tied in a true love's knotRed rose around green briar