'Twas in the merry month of May, when rosebuds were a-swelling
Sweet William on his deathbed lay, for the love of Barbara Allen
He sent his servant to the town, the town where she was dwelling
Said, "My master's sick and he's sent
For you, if you name be Barbara Allen"
Then slowly, slowly, she got up, and slowly she went nine
And all she said when she got there
"Young man, I think you're dying"
"Oh, yes, I'm sick
I'm very sick
I hear the death wind howling
No better, no better I never shall be if I can't have Barbara Allen
I can't forgive that jealous night down at the Lockwood Tavern
You drank and danced with the ladies
There, and you slighted Barbara Allen"
She was on her long way home
She saw the hearse a-coming
"Lay down, lay down your corpse of clay, that I may look upon it"
The more she looked, the more she mourned
Till she fell to the ground in sorrow
Sweet William died for me today
I'll die for him tomorrow
They buried her in the old churchyard
And William's grave was nigh her
On William's grave there grew red rose
On Barbara's grave a brier
They grew and grew up the old church
Wall, till they could grow no higher
They lapped and tied in a true love knot
The rose wrapped round the briar
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