| It was in the merry month of May
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| When green bugs were a-swelling
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| Sweet William on his death bed lay
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| For the love of Barbriallen
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| He sent his servant to the town
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| The place where she’d been dwelling
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| Say master dear has sent me here
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| If your name be Barbriallen
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| And slowly, slowly she got up
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| And slowly she went to him
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| And all she said when she got there
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| Young man I think you are dying
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| Oh, don’t you remember the other day
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| When we where in a tavern
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| You drank your health to the ladies there
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| And you slided Barbriallen
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| He turned his face unto the wall
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| He turned his back upon her
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| Adieu, adieu to all my friends
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| Be kind to Barbriallen
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| She looked to the east, she looked to the west
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| She saw his corpse a-coming
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| Oh, put him down for me she cried
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| That I may gaze upon him
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| The more she looked, the more she grieved
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| She bursted it out in crying
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| Oh, pick me up and carry me home
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| For I feel like I am dying
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| They buried sweet Willy in the old church yard
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| And Barbara in the new one
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| From Willy’s grave there grew a rose
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| From Barbara’s a green briar
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| They grew and they grew on the old church wall
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| And could not grow no higher
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| And there they tied in a true love’s knot
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| The rose bush and the briar. |