Barbara Ellen (3)

In Scotland I was born and bred
In Scotland I was dwelling;
When a young man on his deathbed lay
For the sake of Barb'ra Ellen.

He sent his servant to her house
To the place where she was dewlling,
Saying, "You must come to my master's house
If your name is Barb'ra Ellen."

So slowly she put on her clothes
So slowly she came to him,
And when she came to his bedside
She said, "Young man, you're dying."

"A dying man! O don't say so.
For one kiss from you will cure me."
"One kiss from me you never shall have
While your poor heart is breaking."

"If you'll look up at my bed-head
You will see my watch a-hanging;
Here's my gold ring and my gold chain
I give to Barb'ra Ellen."

"If you look down at my bed's-foot
You will see a bowl a-standing
In it is the blood I've shed
For the sake of Barb'ra Ellen."

As she was walking down the lane
She heard some birds a-singing,
And as they sang, they seemed to say:
"Hard-hearted Barb'ra Ellen."

As she was walking down the lane
She heard some bells a-tolling,
And as they tolled they seemed to say:
"Hard-hearted Barb'ra Ellen."

As she was walking up the groves
And met his corpse a-coming,
"Stay, stay," said she,"and stop awhile
That I may gaze all on you."

The more she gazed, the more she smiled
Till she burst out a-laughing;
And her parents cried out:"Fie, for shame,
Hard-hearted Barb'ra Ellen."

"Come mother, come make up my bed
Make it both long and narrow;
My true love died for me yesterday
I'll die for him tomorrow."

And he was buried in Edmondstone
And she was buried in Cold Harbour;
And out of him sprang roses red
And out of her sweet-brier.

It grew and grew so very high
Till it could grow no higher;
And around the top growed a true lover's knot
And around it twined sweet-brier.

From English Folk Songs, Sharp
Child #84
RG