Barbara Allen
Phoebe Smith, The Yellow Handkerchief, Veteran Tapes 136, recordings 1969-1976 (transcription with the help of Danny Stradling)

A north (?) town I were bred and born
And Cambridge I went dwelling
'Til I fell in love with a pretty fair maid   
And her name were Barbara Allen

It were early into the month of May
When the green leaves they were budding
When a young man on his death bed laid
For the love of Barbara Allen

He sent round one of his servant men
To the place were she were dwelling
And a-saying - Young woman, I've been sont for thee
If your name are Barbara Allen

Slowly she put on her cloak
And slowly she walked to him
Then she turned her back awards him
And a-saying - Young man, you are a-dying

Dying, Miss, no that never can be
One kiss from you will save me
One kiss from me you never shall have
Since my poor heart you have ruined

You remember that last Saturday night
In the alehouse you were drinking
You drank your health with all the fair maids
And you daunted Barbara Allen

Mother dear, come and make my bed
And make it long and narrow
For as I may lay and take a rest
And think of Barbara Allen

Mother dear, look at my bedside
You will see a watch a-hanging
There's a guinea-gold watch and a diamond ring
Hung there for Barbara Allen

She were walking through the old footpath
She heard the church bells a-tolling
And the more they tolled, so loudly rolled -
Hard haunted (hearted) Barbara Allen

She were walking down that road
She met the corpse a-coming
And the nearer she got to that corpse
The further he drew from her

Set him down, my six bonny lads
And let me gaze all upon him
For this young man has died for me
And I shall die tomorrow

He died on to one grey day
And she died on the other
They were both buried in to the old churchyard
Both under one big laurel

Out of her sprang a red rose tree
And out from him a briar
They grow, they grow to a steeple tall
And the red rose covered the briar, briar
And the red rose covered the briar