(Sidney Nelson / Charles Jefferys)
The morn was fair, the skies were clear, no breath came o'er the sea
When Mary left her Hieland cot 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 Allandale
'Twas the Rose of Allandale, was the Rose of Allandale
By far the sweetest flower there was the Rose of Allandale
Where'er I wandered, east or west, though fate began to lour
A solace still was she to me in sorrow's lonely hour
When tempests lashed our gallant barque and rent her shivering sail
One maiden form withstood the storm, the Rose of Allandale
'Twas the Rose of Allandale, was the Rose of Allandale
One maiden form withstood the storm, 'twas the Rose of Allandale
And when my fevered lips were parched on Afric's burning sand
She whispered hopes of happiness and tales of distant land
My life had been a wilderness unblest by fortune's gale
Had fate not linked my lot to hers, the Rose of Allandale
'Twas the Rose of Allandale, was the Rose of Allandale
Had fate not linked my lot to hers, 'twas the Rose of Allandale
(as sung by The Corries)