SIR JOHN THE GRAME.
t was in and about the Martinmas time
When the green leaves were a-falling,
That Sir John Grame o‘ the west country
Fell in love with Barbara Allan
He sent his man down through the town,
To the place where he was dwelling,
O haste and come to my master dear,
Gin ye be Barbara Allan.
O hooly rose she up and came
To the place where he was lying,
And drew the curtain by, and said
Young man, I think you're dying.
O its I’m sick, I’m very sick,
And ’tis a’ for Barbara Allan,
O the better for me ye’s never be,
Though your heart’s blood were a-spilling.
O dinna ye mind, young man she said,
When the red wine ye were filling,
That ye made their healths go round and round,
And slighted Barbara Allan?
He turn’d his face unto the wall,
And death was with him dealing,
Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all,
And be kind to Barbara Allan.
O slowly, slowly raise she up,
And slowly, slowly left him
Cnd sighing, said, she could not stay,
Since death of life had ’reft him.
She had not gane a mile but twa,
When she heard the death-bell knelling,
And every jow that the dead bell gied
It cry‘d, wo to Barbara Allan.
O mother, mother, make my bed,
O make rt saft and narrow,
Since my love died for me to day,
I’ll die for him to-morrow.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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