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It Is earlier than 1666 when this song is first mentioned. The tune is traditional, the words here are the English version. The Scots also claim authorship.
F+6 xx0211
D7 xx0213
G7 320001
D7 xx0213
G7 320001
Barbara Allen
by trad
In [C] Scarlet town where [Am] I was born, there [C+6] was a fair [D7] maid [G] dwellin’
Made [F+6] ev’ry youth cry, [C] “Well-a-day!”, her name was [F+6] Bar- [G7] b’ra [C] Allen.
All in the merry month of May, when green buds they were swellin’
young Jenny Grove on his death bed lay, for love of Barb’ra Allen.
He sent his man unto her then, to the town where she was dwellin’
“You must come to my master, dear, if your name be Barb’ra Allen.”
So slowly, slowly, she came up and slowly she came nigh him,
and all she said when there she came: “Young man, I think you’re dying!”
He turned his face unto the wall, and death was drawing nigh him
“Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all, and be kind to Barb’ra Allen.”
As she was walking o’er the fields, she heard the death bell knellin’
and ev’ry stroke did seem to say: “Unworthy, Barb’ra Allen.”
When he was dead and laid in grave, her heart was struck with sorrow
“O mother, mother, make my bed for I shall die tommorow.”
and on her deathbed as she lay, she begged to be buried by him
and sore repented of the day that she did e’er deny him
“Farewell,” she said, “ye virgins all, and shun the fault I fell in
henceforth take warning by the fall of cruel Barb’ra Allen!
Made [F+6] ev’ry youth cry, [C] “Well-a-day!”, her name was [F+6] Bar- [G7] b’ra [C] Allen.
All in the merry month of May, when green buds they were swellin’
young Jenny Grove on his death bed lay, for love of Barb’ra Allen.
He sent his man unto her then, to the town where she was dwellin’
“You must come to my master, dear, if your name be Barb’ra Allen.”
So slowly, slowly, she came up and slowly she came nigh him,
and all she said when there she came: “Young man, I think you’re dying!”
He turned his face unto the wall, and death was drawing nigh him
“Adieu, adieu, my dear friends all, and be kind to Barb’ra Allen.”
As she was walking o’er the fields, she heard the death bell knellin’
and ev’ry stroke did seem to say: “Unworthy, Barb’ra Allen.”
When he was dead and laid in grave, her heart was struck with sorrow
“O mother, mother, make my bed for I shall die tommorow.”
and on her deathbed as she lay, she begged to be buried by him
and sore repented of the day that she did e’er deny him
“Farewell,” she said, “ye virgins all, and shun the fault I fell in
henceforth take warning by the fall of cruel Barb’ra Allen!