To the Editor of the Charlotte Observer:



Having seen in the Observer several articles concerning the old

song, Barbara Allen, I am sending the words as sung by my mother, 

andmy great-grandmother.



Lila Ripley Barnwell

April 3.  Hendersonville, N.C.

9



BARBARA ALLEN



In Scarlett Town where I was born

There was a fair maid dwelling,

Made every youth cry Well-a-way,

Her name was Barbara Allen.



All in the merry month of May,

When green buds they were swelling,

Young Jimmy Grove on his death bed lay

For the love of Barbara Allen.



He sent his man unto her then

To the town where she was dwellin',

"You must come to my master dear," he said,

"If your name is Barbara Allen."



So slowly, slowly she came up

And slowly she came nigh him,

And all she said as there she stood

"Young man, I think you're dyin'."



He turned his face unto the wall,

And death was with him dealin'

"Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all,

Adieu to Barbara Allen."



As she was walking o'er the fields,

She spied the corpse a-comin',

"Lay down, lay down the corpse," she said,

"That I may lookupon him."



With scornful eye she looked down,

Her cheeks with laughter swellin'

And all her friends cried out amain,

"Oh, shameful, Barbara Allen."