[382] Barbara Allen.
Es war im Herbst, im bunten Herbst,
Wenn die rothgelben Blätter fallen,
Da wurde John Graham vor Liebe krank,
Vor Liebe zu Barbara Allen.
5 Seine Läufer liefen hinab in die Stadt...
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Between the mountains and the sea,
Walled by the rock, fringed by the foam,
A valley stretches fair and free
Beneath the blue of heaven’s dome.At rest in that fair valley lies
Saint Barbara, the beauteous maid;
Above her head the cloudless skies
Smile down upon her charms displayed.The sunlit mountains o’er her shed...
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Up from the meadows rich with corn,
Clear in the cool September morn,The clustered spires of Frederick stand
Green-walled by the hills of Maryland.Round about them orchards sweep,
Apple and peach trees fruited deep,Fair as a garden of the Lord
To the eyes of the famished rebel horde,On that pleasant morn of the early...