Barbara Allen Blackmore's Night

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'Twas in the merry month of May
When green buds all were swelling
Sweet William on his death bed lay
For the love of Barbara Allen

He sent his servant unto her
To the place where she was dwelling
Saying, "You must come to his bedside now
If your name be Barbara Allen"

So slowly, slowly she got up
And slowly she drew nigh him
And the only words to him she said:
"Young man, I think you're dying"

As she walked slowly o'er the field
She heard the death bell knelling
And with every stroke it seemed to say:
"Hardhearted Barbara Allen"

"Oh, mother, mother make my bed
Make it long and narrow
Sweet William died for me today
And I will die for him tomorrow"

They buried her in the old churchyard
They buried him beside her
And from his grave grew a red, red rose
And from her grave a green briar