Coll. by Randy Terry For M.C. Parler
Mrs. W.F. Bell Fayetteville, Ark January 10, 1960
Reel 338, Item 2
In Scarlett town, where I was born,
There was a fair maid dwelling,
Made every youth cry wellaway,
For her was Barbara Allen, name
All in the merry month of May When green buds they were swelling,
Sweet William on his death-tied lay For the love of Barbara Allen.
He sent his servant to the town,
To the place where she was dwelling,
Saying, Hasten away and come with me,
If your name be Barbry Allen.
So slowly, slowly she rose up And slowly she came nigh him,
And all she said when there she came,
Young man, I think you're dying.
Oh, yes, I'm sick and very sick,
And death is on me dwelling,
No better, no better I'll never be If I can't have Barbry Allen.
Do you remember in yonders town,
When you were at the tavern,
You drank a toast to the ladies all around But you slighted Barbry Allen Oh, yes, I remember in yonders town When I was at the tavern,
I gave a toast to the ladies all around But my heart to Barbry Allen.
If on your death-bed you do lie, hat needs this tale you're telling?
I cannot keep you from your death;
Farewell, said Barbry Allen.
As she was on her highway home,
She spied his corpse a-coming,
Sit down, sit down this corpse of clay That I may look upon him.
-more-Reel 338, Item 2 Continued
The more she looked, the more she wept,
Till she fell to the ground a-crying;
Oh, Pick me up and carry me home,
For now I am a-dying.
O Father, O Father, go dig my grave,
Go dig it long and narrow,
Sweet William died for me today,
I'll die for him tomorrow.
Upon her grave there grew a red rose,
On William's grave grew a briar;
They twined and they twined in a true-lover's knot And the rose grew around the briar.
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