Barbara Allen- Coyle (TN) 1966 Burton/Manning
From Folklore: Folksongs I by Burton and Manning, 1967.
R. Matteson 2015]
Barbara Allen- Sung by Mrs. Mary Coyle, April 13, 1966.
(Cf. Mr. Barker's variant. )
1. In London Town where I once lived
There was a fair maid dwelling;
Seemed every youth was going her way;
Her name was Barbara Allen.
2. 'Twas in a merry month of May;
Spring flowers all were blooming;
Sweet William came from a western town
And courted Barbara Allen.
3. He courted her for seven long years;
She said she would not marry him;
Poor William took sick with a broken heart
And lately was a-dying.
4, He wrote a letter on his death bed;
He wrote it slow but loving;
My master's sick; he sends for you
If your name is Barbara Allen.
5. The coachman drove her across the town
To the place where he was dwelling;
And all she said when she went in,
"Dear William, I think you're dying."
6. "Yes, I'm sick, I'm very sick;
Death is on me dwelling;
No better, no better, I never will be
If I can't have Barbara Allen."
7. "Yes, you're sick and very sick;
Death is with you dwelling;
No better, no better, you never will be,
For you can't have Barbara Allen."
B. "Do you remember that lonely night
You was at the tavern drinking
And drink in health to the ladies all around
and slighted Barbara Allen?"
9. "Yes, I remember just that one night,
Was at the tavern drinking;
I drank in health to the ladies all around,
But I love sweet Barbara Allen."
10. He turned his pale face to the wall;
She turned her back upon him;
He said adieu to his friends all 'round;
"Be kind to Barbara Allen."
11. As she was riding through a shady grove,
She heard the birds a-singing,
And every little bird would seem to say,
"Hard-hearted Barbara Allen."
12. She was walking up to her mansion home;
She heard the death bells a-ringing,
And every bell would seem to say,
"Your best friend is a-dying."
13. She looked to the east, she looked to the west,
And saw a corpse a-coming,
"Bring his loving corpse to me
That I may look upon him."
14. The more she looked, the more she sighed
And fell to the ground a=crying,
Saying, "Pick me up and carry me home
For I feel like I'm a-dying."
15. "Dig my grave, dear father," she said;
"Dig it deep but narrow;
Poor William died for me today,
I'll die for him tomorrow."
16. "Make my bed, dear Mother," she said,
"And make it soft but narrow;
He died for me for pure sweet love,
I'll die for him in sorrow."