Barbara Allen- Betty Bostic (NC) c.1938 Abrams Collection
[My date. From a 2 page handwritten MS in the Abrams Collection, Barbara Allen by Betty Bostic of Mooresville (different than the G. L. Bostic version by her grandmother). Marked with a 1 circled.
William Amos “Doc” Abrams (1905-1991), originally from Pinetops in Edgecombe County, North Carolina, was chairman of the English Department at Appalachian State Teacher’s College (ASTC) from 1932 to 1946. The W. Amos Abrams Folksong Collection, presented online as part of the Documenting Appalachia digital initiative, consists of approximately 1,100 document pages that comprise some 400 individual song titles, most of which have multiple variants.
R. Matteson 2015]
Barbara Allen- sent in by Betty Bostic of Mooresville, NC c. 1938.
'Twas in the merry month of May,
when flowers were a-blooming
When Johnnie Gray from West Tennessee,
Fell in love with Barbara Allen.
He sent his servant to her door,
Unto her father's dwelling,
'My master says, you must come here,
If your name be Barbry[1] Allen.
Slowly, slowly she rose up,
And slowly she went to him,
And all she said when she got there was,
"Young man I think you're dying.
I'm sick, I'm sick, I'm sick,
I'm sick for Barbara Allen
and a better day I never shall see
Till I get Barbara Allen.
Oh sir, do you remember in Granville Town
In Granville Town of Eddlee,
You passed the drinks to all the ladies around,
And slighted Barbara Allen.
She started home across the fields a-walking,
Before she got half a mile,
She heard her death bell a-ringing,
"Cruel hearted Barbara Allen."
She looked to the east, she looked to the West,
She saw her corpse a-coming,
oh corpse of clay, come help me down,
If your name be Barbara Allen.
'Oh mother, mother make my bed,
Don't make it soft and narrow,
My true lover died for me today,
And I'll die for him tomorrow.
They buried him in one church yard
And they buried her in another,
And out of his grave grew a bright red rose
And out of hers a briar.
They grew and they grew to the church top's high,
And they couldn't grow any higher,
Into a true love knot they tied,
The rose around the briar,
For all true lovers to admire.
1. This is the only Barbry but I suspect it was sung this way.