By far the sweetest flower there,

Was the Rose of Allendale.

Where’er I wander’d, east or west,

Though fate began to lower,

A solace still was she to me,

In sorrow’s lonely hour;

When tempest lashed our gallant bark,

And rent her shivering sail,

One maiden form withstood the storm,

’Twas the Rose of Allendale.