Oh the sky was clear, the morn was fair
Not a breath came over 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 Allandale
Sweet rose of Allandale
Sweet rose of Allandale
By far the sweetest flower there
Was the rose of Allandale
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Where'er I wander to the east and to the west
And fate began to lower
A solace still was she to me
In sorrow's lonely hour
Though tempest wreck my lonely barque
And may rend the quivering sail
One maiden warm withstood the storm
Twas the rose of Allandale
And when my feeble lips were parched
On Africa's burning sands
She whispered hopes of happiness
And tales of foreign lands
My life had been a wilderness
Unblessed by fortune's gales
Had fate not linked my lot to her
Sweet rose of Allandale
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