Classic Poem

'Twas early in the month of May
When green leaves they were springing,
When a young man on his deathbed lay
For the love of Barbara Allen.

He sent to her his servant-man
To the place where she was dwelling,
Saying, " Fair maid, you must come to my master
If your name is Barbara Allen."

Slowly, slowly she walked along
And slowly she got to him,
And when she got to his bedside,
" Young man," said she, " You're dying."

" Dying, dying? Oh don't say so!
One kiss from you will cure me."
" One kiss from me you never shall have
If your poor heart is breaking.

" Don't you remember the other day
When in the city dwelling,
You gave kind words to the other girls
And none to Barbara Allen?"

As she was walking through the fields
She heard the bells a-ringing,
And as they rang they seemed to say
" Hard-hearted Barbara Allen."

Hard-hearted creature sure was I
To him that loved me dearly.
I wish I had more kinder been
In time of life when he was near me.

As she was walking up the town
She saw the corpse a-coming.
" Put him down, put him down, you six young men,
And let me gaze upon him."

The more she looked the more she laughed
And the further she got from him,
Till all her friends cried out, " For shame,
Hard-hearted Barbara Allen!"

'Twas he that died on one good day
And she died on the morrow.
'Twas him that only died for love
And she that died for sorrow.

One was buried in the old chancel,
The other in the choir.
Out of him grew a red rosebud
And out of her a sweet briar.

It grew, it grew to the old church top
Where it could not grow any higher,
Tied himself in a true lovers' knot
For all false hearts to admire.