It was in and about the Martinmas time,
When the green leaves were a falling,
That Sir John Graeme in the west country
Fell in love with Barbara Allan.
He sent his man down through the town,5
To the place where she was dwelling;
"O haste and come to my master dear,
Gin ye be Barbara Allan."
O hooly, hooly rose she up,
To the place where he was lying,10
And when she drew the curtain by,
"Young man, I think you're dying."
"O it's I'm sick, and very, very sick,
And 'tis a' for Barbara Allan:"
"O the better for me ye's never be,15
Tho' your heart's blood were a spilling.
"O dinna ye mind, young man," said she,
"When ye was in the tavern a drinking,
That ye made the healths gae round and round,
And slighted Barbara Allan."20
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."
And slowly, slowly raise she up,25
And slowly, slowly left him;
And sighing said, she cou'd not stay,
Since death of life had reft him.
She had not gane a mile but twa,
When she heard the dead-bell ringing,30
And every jow that the dead-bell geid,
It cry'd "Woe to Barbara Allan!"