The morn was fair, the skies were clear, no breath came o'er the sea,

When Mary left her highland home and wandered forth with me.

Though flowers decked the mountainside and fragrance filled the vale,

By far the sweetest flower there was the rose of Allendale_

CHORUS:

Was the rose of Allendale, was the rose of Allendale,

By far the sweetest flower there was the rose of Allendale.

Where'er I wandered, east or west, the' fate began to lour,

A solace still she was to me in sorrow's lonely hour.

When tempests lashed our lonely barque, and rent her shiv'ring sail,

One maiden form withstood the storm, 'twas the Rose of Allendale.

REPEAT CHORUS

And when my fever'd lips were parched on Afric's burning sands,

She whispered hopes of happiness and tales of distant lands.

My life has been a wilderness unblest by fortune's gale;