Blackmore's Night - Barbara Allen

Twas in the merry month of May When green buds all were swelling, Sweet William on his death bed lay For love of Barbara Allen. He sent his servant to the town To the place where she was dwelling, Saying you must come, to my master dear If your name be Barbara Allen. So slowly, slowly she got up And slowly she drew nigh him, And the only words to him did say Young man I think you're dying. He turned his face unto the wall And death was in him welling, Good-bye, good-bye, to my friends all Be good to Barbara Allen. When he was dead and laid in grave She heard the death bells knelling And every stroke to her did say Hard hearted Barbara Allen.