They grew till they grew unto the church top, And there they tyed in a true lovers knot, Then came the clerk of the parish, 75 V. BARBARA ALLEN'S CRUELTY. Given, with some corrections, from an old black letter copy, intitled, "Barbara Allen's cruelty, or the young "man's tragedy." In Scarlet towne, where I was borne, There was a faire maid dwellin, All in the merrye month of May, When greene buds they were swellin, Yong Jemmye Grove on his death-bed lay, He sent his man unto her then, 5 To the town where shee was dwellin; 10 You must come to my master deare, For death is printed on his face, And ore his hart is stealin : O lovelye Barbara Allen. 15 Though Though death be printed on his face, And ore his harte is stealin, Yet little better shall he bee For bonny Barbara Allen. So slowly, slowly, she came up, And slowly she came nye him; And all she sayd, when there she came, He turnd his face unto her strait, If on your death-bed you doe lye, What needs the tale you are tellin; I cannot keep you from your death 1; He turnd his face unto the wall, As she was walking ore the fields, She heard the bell a knellin; And every stroke did seem to saye, Unworthy Barbara Allen. 20 25 30 35 40 She She turnd her bodye round about, And spied the corps a coming : Laye down, laye down the corps, she sayd, With scornful eye she looked downe, Her cheeke with laughter swellin ; Whilst all her friends cryd out amaine; Unworthye Barbara Allen. When he was dead, and laid in grave, O mother, mother, make my bed, 45 50 Hard-harted creature him to slight, Who loved me so dearlye: O that I had beene more kind to him, 55 She, on her death-bed as she laye, Farewell, she sayd, ye virgins all, |