Page:Six excellent songs (1).pdf/4

 O dinna ye mind, young man, she said,

When the red wine ye were tilling,

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,

And 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 death-bell gied,

It cry’d, wo to Barbara Allan.

O mother, mother, make my bed,

O make it saft and narrow,

Since my love died for me to-day,

I’ll die for him to-morrow.





My father had no child but me,

And all his care continually,

Was for to have me married well,

But under fortune’s frown I fell.