English Folk Songs from the Southern Appalachians

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	No. 21
	Barbara Allen A

	2 I was taken sick, so very sick, Death on my brows were dwelling. I sent for the only one I loved, Her name was Barbara Allen. 3 I am sick, so very sick, Death on my brows are dwelling, And none of the better will I ever be Till I get Barbara Allen. 4 You remember the day, the bright groom day, When you passed your dranks so willing ? You gave your dranks to the ladies all, But you slighted Barbara Allen. 5 I remember the day, the bright groom day, When I passed my dranks so willing. I gave my dranks to the ladies all, And my love to Barbara Allen. 6 He turned his pale face to the wall And bursted out to crying. She turned her back on Sweet Willie's bed And tipped downstairs a-smiling. 7 I had not got but a mile from the place Till I heard his death-bells ringing, And as they rung they seemed to say: Hard-hearted Barbara Allen. 8 I looked to the East, I looked to the West, I saw his coffin coming. Lay down, lay down his cold, clay corpse And let me gaze upon him. 90