In Scarlet town where I was born,
There lived a fair maid dwelling,
Made every youth say "well aware."
Her name was Barb'ra Allen.
All in the merry month of May,
When green buds they were swelling,
Sweet William on his deathbed lay,
For love of Barb'ra Allen.
He sent his man unto her then,
To the town where she was dwelling,
"You must come to my master dear
If your name be Barb'ra Allen."
Then slowly, slowly she came up,
And slowly she came nigh him,
"Oh lovely maid, come pity me,
I'm on my deathbed lying."
"If on your deathbed you do lie,
What needs the tale you're telling?
I cannot keep you from your death,
Farewell," said Barb'ra Allen.
Hard-hearted creature him to slight,
Who loved me so sincerely,
Oh that I had been more kind to him,
When he was alive and near me.
On Monday morning she took sick,
Her heart was struck with sorrow,
Oh, Mother, mother, make my bed,
For I shall die tomorrow.
Farewell, farewell, ye virgins all,
And shun the fault I fell in,
Henceforth take warning by the fall
Of cruel Barb'ra Allen.