by Allan Cunningham (1784 - 1842)

The sun rises bright in France
Language: English 
The sun rises bright in France,
  And fair sets he;
But he has tint the blythe blink he had
  In my ain countree.

O, it 's nae my ain ruin
  That saddens aye my e'e,
But the dear Marie I left behin'
  Wi' sweet bairnies three.

My lanely hearth burn'd bonnie,
  And smiled my ain Marie;
I've left a' my heart behin'
  In my ain countree.

The bud comes back to summer,
  And the blossom to the bee;
But I'll win back, O never,
  To my ain countree.

O, I am leal to high Heaven,
  Where soon I hope to be,
An' there I'll meet ye a' soon
  Frae my ain countree!

About the headline (FAQ)

Confirmed with Sir Arthur Thomas Quiller-Couch, The Oxford Book of English Verse, Oxford: Clarendon, 1919.


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Researcher for this text: Emily Ezust [Administrator]

This text was added to the website: 2020-04-13
Line count: 20
Word count: 112