My ain Countrie

The sun rises bright in France,

And fair sets he;

But he has tint the blythe blink he had

In my ain countrie.

O! gladness comes to many,

But sorrow comes to me,

As I look o'er the wide ocean

To my ain countrie.

O! it's no my ain ruin

That saddens aye my e'e

But the love I left in Galloway,

Wi' bonnie bairns three;

My hamely hearth burnt bonnie,

And smiled my fair Marie:

I've left my heart behind me,

In my ain countrie.

The bud comes back to summer,

And the blossom to the tree,

But I win back—oh, never,

To my ain countrie.

I'm leal to the high heaven,

Which will be leal to me;

And there I'll meet ye a' sune,

Frae my ain countrie.