Classic Poem

'Twas in the merry month of May,
When all gay flowers were blooming,
Sweet William on his death bed lay
For the love of Barb'ra Allen.

2

He sent a servant to the town
Where Barbara, she was dwellin'.
" My master's sick and sends for you
If your name be Barb'ra Allen. "

3

So slowly, slowly she got up,
And slowly went unto him,
And all she said when she got there:
" Young man, I think you're dyin'. "

4

" Yes, I am sick and low indeed
And death is on me dwellin';
No better, no better will I ever be
If I don't get Barb'ra Allen. "

5

" Sir, do you remember the other night
In a gathering over yonder
You gave your gifts to all around,
And slighted Barb'ra Allen? "

6

" Now you are sick and low indeed,
And death is in your dwellin';
No better, no better will you be
for you'll not get Barb'ra Allen. "

7

He turned his face unto the wall,
While death was creeping o'er him;
He bid his friends adieu, and said:
" Be kind to Barb'ra Allen. "

8

She hadn't got more than a mile from the place
Till she heard the death-bells ringing —
A ring and knock at ev'ry door,
Crying, " Woe to Barb'ra Allen. "

9

She looked to the east, she looked to the west,
She saw the corpse a-coming.
" Set the lowly corpse down here
And let me look upon him. "

10

" Go dig my grave both wide and deep,
Oh, dig it deep and narrow
Sweet William died for me in love
I'll die for him in sorrow. "

11

Sweet William was buried in the high churchyard,
And Barbara buried by him,
And out of his grave grew a blood red rose
And out of her's a briar.

12

They grew and grew to the steeple top
Till they could grow no higher;
They lapped and tied in a true love knot —
The rose around the briar.