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Traditional Celtic Music, Scottish Songs & Border Ballads
Scots' musician, songwriter, & balladeer.
Hazel Whyte
Scots' Music
Rose Of
Allendale
A simple brief
thought on Scottish
Independance.

Were the outdated
union not of some very
high value to England and
the English, why would
they fight so to try to
keep it?

There are only so many
slices to a pie, for one to
have more, another must
have less.

Lastly - to those Scottish
"Loyalists" - to whom are
you loyal?
Scots royalty died in the
1700's so it can be no
Scots crown - And
certainly not it appears to
those who came before,
that bled for Scotland
and her freedom !  
In the words
of Burns, as he
wrote from the heart.

Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled,
Scots, wham Bruce has aften led,
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to victorie.

Now's the day, and now's the hour;
See the front o' battle lour;
See approach proud Edward's power,
Chains and slaverie.

Wha would be a traitor-knave?
Wha can fill a coward's grave?
Wha sae base as be a Slave?
Let him turn and flie:

Wha for Scotland's king and law,
Freedom's sword will strongly draw,
Free-man stand, or free-man fa',
Let him follow me.

By Oppression's woes and pains!
By your Sons in servile chains!
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be free!

Lay the proud Usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty's in every blow!
Let us Do - or Die!!!

Choose your destiny.
The morn was fair, the skies were clear,
No breath came o'er the lea,
when Mary left her highland 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 Allendale.

The Rose of Allendale,
Sweet Rose of Allendale
By far the sweetest flower there
Was the Rose of Allendale.

End of each chorus:
One maiden form withstood the storm
Had fate not linked my lot to her's,
The Rose of Allendale.

Whene'er I wandered, east or west,
Though fate began to glower
A solace still she was to me
In sorrows lonely hour

When tempests lashed our lonely barque
And rent her shivering sail
One maiden form withstood the storm
Twas the Rose of Allendale

And when my fevered lips were parched
On Afric's burning sands
She whispered words of happiness
And tales of distant lands.

My life had been a wilderness
Unblessed by fortune's gale,
Had fate not linked my lot to her's,
The Rose of Allendale.

          
Clip by Alastair MacDonald
Tab/Sheet Music
As Available