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Barbara Allen - Jo Stafford
It was in the merry month of May
When all the green buds were swelling
A young man on his death bed lay
For love of Barbara Allen
He sent his servant to the town
He sent him to her dwelling
My master's sick and he sends for you
If you are Barbara Allen
Oh she walked in oh she walked in
And with her raise upon him
And then she said when she's got her
Was my ture love your darling
Oh mother come and make my bed
Oh
Make it soft and narrow
For my true love has died today
And I shall die tomorrow
