Bonny Barbara Allan (4)/Bonny Barbara Allan
For other versions of this work, see Bonny Barbara Allan.
Bonny Barbara Allan.
It was in and about the Martinmas time, when the green leaves were a-falling,That Sir John Graeme, in the west countrie fell in love with Barbara Allan.
He sent his man down thro' 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 went 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 drinking,Ye made the healths gae round & round, but slsghted Barbara Allan.
He turn'd his face unto the wa', and death was with him dealing;Adieu, adieu, my dear friends a', and be kind to Barbara Allan.
And slowly, slowly raise she up, nnd slowly, slowly left him;And, sighing, said, she cou'd not stay, since death of life had 'rest him.
She had not gane a mile but twa, when she heard the dead-bell ringing;And ev'ry jow that the dead-bell geid, It cry'd, Woe to Barbara Allan!
O mother, mother, make my bed! O make it saft and narrow!Since my love died for me to-day, I'll die for him to-morrow.