Coll. by Irene Carlisle
Transcribed by M.C. Parler
Mrs. James Thomas
Little Rock, Ark.
May 17, 1952
Reel 118, Item 2
'Twas early in the month of May
Green buds there were swelling,
Sweet William on his death bed lay
For the love of Barbara Ellen.
He sent his servant to the town,
To the place where she was dwelling,
Saying, Master's sick, and sent for you,
If your name be Bar'bra Ellen.
And slowly, slowly she rose up,
And slowly she drew to him,
And when she pulled the curtains back,
Young man I think you're dying.
He turned his pale face from the wall,
Where he knew death were dying,
Oh, pretty maid, come pity me,
I'm on my death bed lying.
If you do on your death bed lie,
What may have been your saying,
I cannot stop you from your death,
Farewell, said Barb'ra Allen.
He turned his pale face to the wall,
Where he and death were dual (?)
Adieu, adieu, to my friends all,
Be kind to Barb'ra Allen.
Sweet William died on Friday night,
And the young lady died on Saturday,
They burled them both in the old churchyard,
And on his grave there grew a red rose,
And from hers there grew a briar.
They grew they grew to the church-steeple top
Till they could grow no higher,
They met and twined in a true-love's knot,
The rose bush and the briar.
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