I'll include a few Irish versions from the US, the first is from Flanders; Ancient Ballads 1961, dated pre-1867.

G. Barb'ry Allen- Mrs. Ellen M. Sullivan, of Springfield, Vermont, who came as a young child to America in 1867, a native of County Cork, Ireland, sang this version. H. H. F., Collector; July 12, 1932.


It was in the springtime of the year
When flowers they were blooming,
A young man came from the north country,
Fell in love with Barb'ry Allen.

He sent his footman to her house,
Unto her house and dwelling,
Saying, "Arise, arise and come with me
If your name be Barb'ry Allen."

It's slowly, slowly she got up
And slowly she Put on it
And slowly, slowly, she arose
And slowly she went with him.

Until she came into his house
And to his house and dwelling,
And the very first words that e'er she spoke
Was, "I fear, young man, you're dying."

"A dying man I am not yet,
One kiss from you will cure me."
"One kiss from me you ne'er will get
If your poor heart was breaking."

"You remember last Saturday night
When in the tavern drinking,
You drank a health to all fair maids
And slighted Barb'ry Allen."

"Yes, I remember last Saturday night
When in the tavern drinking,
I drank a health to all fair maids
But remembered Barb'ry Allen.

"Look up, look up at my bed's head,
You'll see a gold watch hanging,
My gold watch and precious chain,
Give them to Barb'ry Allen.

"Look down, look down at my bed's foot,
You'll see a basin standing,
It overflows with my heart's blood,
I shed for Barb'ry Allen."

As she walked in her father's woods
She heard the dead bell ringing
And every toll the death bell gave
Was "hard-hearted Barb'ry Allen."

As she walked in her father's lawn
She saw the corpse a-coming.
"Lay down, lay down the corpse," she said,
"That I may look upon him."

The corpse was laid down at her feet.
There she stood a-laughing.
"Oh, fie, for shame," her friends all cried,
"Hard-hearted Barb'ry Allen!"

"Go make my bed, mama," she said,
"Oh, make it soft and mellow
For a young man died for me last night
And I'll die for him tomorrow."

"Oh, dig my grave, papa," she said,
"And dig it deep and narrow,
For a young man died for me last night
And I'll die for him tomorrow." [1]

One was buried in the middle of the church,
The other, in Mary's Abbey.
Out of one there grew a rose
And out of the other a briar.

And every night at twelve o'clock
They twined in a true lover's knot
The red rose and the briar.

1. On July 13 the last two lines of this stanza were given as,

"And plant it o'er with laurel leaves
That you may think upon me.