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  1. Rose of Allendale
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Contrary to Celtic myth this is not a Scottish or Irish song since Allendale or Allendale Town as it is known is in fact a village in Northumberland, England. It is located on the North Pennines Area of Natural Outstanding Beauty. Neither is the song traditional in the true sense of the word, as it was written in the 1840s in the traditional idiom. Nonetheless it is clearly part of English folk-heritage and deserves to be recognised as such. It just happens to be a lovely song too.


The morn was fair, the sky was 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

Sweet Rose of Allendale
Sweet Rose of Allendale
By far the sweetest flower there
Was the Rose of Allendale

Where'er I wandered, to the east or to the west
And fate began to lower
A solace still was she to me
In sorrow's lonely hour
When tempests lashed our lonely barque
And they rent the quivering sail
One maiden form withstood the storm
'Twas the Rose of Allendale

And when my fever'd 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 gale
Had fate not linked my lot to hers
The Rose of Allendale

© PhilDrane Music 2016