Barbara Allen- Kincaid (KY) 1928 REC
[Text edited. From recording (listen below). A different text appears in his WLS songbook, My Favorite Mountain Ballads and Old-Time Songs by Bradley Kincaid; 1928 (see below). The songbook has additional verses and the songbook text has been reported (Riley 1957) to have come from Neely's 1939 JAF version which originated in the mid-1800s from a broadside (song sheet).
Kincaid sings, "Barb'ry Allen" so the title is not accurate. This was Kincaid's most requested song on Chicago radio station WLS in the late 1920s. This text and recording are from the Blue Bonnet label, a later recording. I have three different recordings from Kincaid.
According to The Lotus Dickey Songbook: "Well," said Lotus Dickey, "I got that off of Bradley Kincaid. My brother had the words. Bradley had put it out years ago (first in 1928).
Wayne Erbsen wrote, "With a borrowed guitar, Bradley returned and sang "Barbara Allen" and several other old songs in his clear tenor voice. The response was overwhelming, and Kincaid was immediately made a regular on the WLS Barn Dance."
R. Matteson 2012]
Barbara Allen- Kincaid (KY) 1928 Recording
[Listen: Bradley Kincaid sing Barbara Allen]
In Scarlet Town where I was born,
There was a fair maid dwellin'.
Made every youth cry, "Well-a-way,"
Her name was Barb'ry Allen.
'Twas in the merry month of June
When all things they were bloomin'.
Sweet William on his death-bed lay,
For the love of Barb'ry Allen.
He sent his servant to the town,
Where Barbry was a-dwellin'.
"My master is sick and sent for you,
If your name be Barb'ry Allen."
So slowly, slowly she got up,
And slowly she came nigh him,
And all she said when she got there,
"Young man, I think you're dyin'."
"Oh, yes, I'm sick, and very sick,
And death is on me dwellin',
No better, no better, I never will be
If I can't have Barb'ry Allen."
"Oh, yes, you're sick, and very sick,
And death is on you dwellin',
No better, no better you never will be
For you can't have Barb'ry Allen."
As she was on her highway home,
The birds they kept a-singin'.
They sang so clear they seemed to say,
"Hard-hearted Barb'ry Allen."
She looked east, and she looked west,
She spied his corpse a-comin';
"Lay down, lay down that corpse of clay,
That I may look upon him."
The more she looked, the more she mourned,
Till she fell to the ground a-cryin';
Saying, "Take me up and carry me home,
For I am now a-dyin'!"
"Oh, father, oh father, go dig my grave,
Go dig it long and narrow.
Sweet William died for me today;
I'll die for him tomorrow."
She was buried in the old churchyard,
And he was buried a-nigh her,
On William's grave there grew a red rose,
On Barb'ry's grew a green brier.
They grew to the top of the old church wall,
Till they couldn't grow any higher,
They lept and they tied in a true lover's knot,
And the rose grew around the brier.
________________________
BARBARA ALLEN -- Another transcription of Bradley Kincaid 'Barbara Allen' recorded in Chicago on 27 February 1928 and issued as Silvertone 5186, 8217 and Supertone 9211. Reissued on Bradley Kincaid 'Old-Time Songs and Hymns' Old Homestead OHCD-4014.
In Scarlet town where I was born
There was a fair maid dwellin'
Made every youth cry well away
And her name was Barb'ry Allen
All in the merry month of June
When the green buds they were fallin'
Sweet William on his death-bed lay
For the love of Barb'ry Allen
He sent his servant to the town
Where Barb'ry was a-dwellin'
My master is sick and sent for you
If your name be Barb'ry Allen
And death is painted o'er his face
And o'er his heart is stealin'
Then hasten away to comfort him
Oh lovely Barb'ry Allen
So slowly, slowly she got up
And slowly she came nigh him
And all she said when she got there:
Young man, I think you're dying
O yes, I'm sick, and very sick
And death is on me dwellin'
No better, no better I never will be
If I can't have Barb'ry Allen
O yes, you're sick, and very sick
And death is on you dwellin'
No better, no better you never will be
For you can't have Barb'ry Allen
Don't you remember in yonder town
When we were at the tavern
You gave a health to the ladies all 'round
And slighted Barb'ry Allen
O yes, I remember in yonder town
In yonder town a-drinkin'
I gave a health to the ladies all 'round
But my heart to Barb'ry Allen
As she was on her high way home
The birds they kept a-singin'
And every note did seem to say
Hard-hearted Barb'ry Allen
She looked to the east and she looked to the west
'til she spied his corpse a-comin'
Lay down, lay down that corpse of clay
That I may look upon him
The more she looked, the more she mourned
'til she fell to the ground a-cryin'
Sayin', Take me up and carry me home
For I am now a-dyin'
Oh mother, oh mother go make my bed
Go make it long and narrow
Sweet William died for pure, pure love
And I shall die for sorrow
Oh father, oh father, go dig my grave
Go dig it long and narrow
Sweet William died for me today
I'll die for him tomorrow
She was buried in the old church-yard
And he was buried nigh her
On William's grave there grew a red rose
On Barb'ry's grew a green briar
They grew to the top of the old church wall
'til they could not climb any higher
They lapped and they tied in a true lover's knot
And the rose grew around the briar.
________________________________________
Barbara Allen- From Kincaid's 1928 songbook, taken with minor changes from an old broadside (song sheet)
In scarlet town where I was born
There was a fair maid dwelling,
Made every youth cry well away,
Her name was Barbara Allen.
All in the merry month of May,
When the green buds were swelling
Sweet William came from the Western States
And courted Barbara Allen.
It was all in the month of June,
When all things they were blooming,
Sweet William on his death bed lay
For the love of Barbara Allen.
He sent his servants to the town,
Where Barbara was a-dwelling,
"My master is sick and sends for you,
If your name be Barbara Allen.
"And death is painted on his face
And o'er his heart is stealing;
Then hasten away to comfort him,
O lovely Barbara Allen."
So slowly, slowly she got up
And slowly she came nigh him,
And all she said when she got there,
"Young man, I think you're dying."
"Oh, yes, I'm sick and very sick,
And death is on me dwelling;
No better, no better I never can be,
If I can't have Barbara Allen."
"Oh, yes, you're sick and very sick,
And death is on you dwelling.
No better, no better you never will be,
For you can't have Barbara Allen.
"Oh, don't you remember in yonder town,
When you were at the tavern,
You drank the health to the ladies all around
And slighted Barbara Allen?"
As she was on her highway home,
The birds they kept on singing;
They sang so clear they seemed to say,
"Hard hearted Barbara Allen."
As she was walking o'er the fields,
She heard the death bell knelling,
And every stroke did seem to say,
"Hard hearted Barbara Allen."
She looked to the east; she looked to the west;
She spied his corpse a-coming,
"Lay down, lay down that corpse of clay
That I may look upon him."
The more she looked, the more she mourned,
Till she fell to the ground a-crying,
Saying, "Take me up, and take me home,
For I am now a-dying.
"Oh, Mother, oh, Mother, go make my bed;
Go make it long and narrow;
Sweet William died for pure, pure love,
And I shall die for sorrow.
"Oh, Father, oh, Father, go dig my grave;
Go dig it long and narrow;
Sweet William died for me today;
I'll die for him tomorrow."
She was buried in the old church yard,
And he was buried a-nigh her;
On William's grave there grew a red rose,
On Barbara's grew a green briar.