A slightly different version than the ones already in the database.

In Scarlet Town, where I was born
there lived a fair maid dwellin'.
Many a youth cried Well-a-day
For love of Barb'ry Allen.

Twas early in the month of May
When green buds were a-bloomin',
that Sir John Gray of the west country
Sent word for Barb'ry Allen.

He sent his servant unto her
To the place where she was dwellin',
Said, "My Master bid you come unto him,
Gin you be Barb'ry Allen".

Slowly, slowly got she up,
And slowly went she nigh him.
But all she said, as she passed his bed,
was "Young man, I think you're dyin'".

As she walked down the stone stairway,
The church bells were a tollin',
and each one cried as it tolled,
"Hard-hearted Barb'ry Allen".

"Mother, mother make my bed
Both make it long and narrow.
Sir John hath died for me today
I'll die for him tomorrow."

They carried Barb'ry to the old church yard
And buried John beside her.
From his grave grew a red, red rose
and out of hers a briar.

Up they climb-ed the flint church wall,
till they would grow no higher:
there at the top twined in a lover's knot
the red rose and the briar.