Rose of No Man's Land
The source document of this text is not known. Please see this document's talk page for details for verification. "Source" means a location at which other users can find a copy of this work. Ideally this will be a scanned copy of the original that can be uploaded to Wikimedia Commons and proofread. If not, it is preferably a URL; if one is not available, please explain on the talk page. |
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1929.
The longest-living author of this work died in 1956, so this work is in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 67 years or less. This work may be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works.
Public domainPublic domainfalsefalse
- I've seen some beautiful flowers,
- Grow in life's garden fair,
- I've spent some wonderful hours,
- Lost in their fragrance rare;
- But I have found another,
- Wondrous beyond compare.
- There's a rose that grows on "No Man's Land"
- And it's wonderful to see,
- Tho' its spray'd with tears, it will live for years,
- In my garden of memory.
- It's the one red rose the soldier knows,
- It's the work of the Master's hand;
- Mid the War's great curse, Stands the Red Cross Nurse,
- She's the rose of "No Man's Land".
- Out of the heavenly splendour,
- Down to the trail of woe,
- God in his mercy has sent her,
- Cheering the world below;
- We call her "Rose of Heaven",
- We've learned to love her so.
- There's a rose that grows on "No Man's Land"
- And it's wonderful to see,
- Tho' its spray'd with tears, it will live for years,
- In my garden of memory.
- It's the one red rose the soldier knows,
- It's the work of the Master's hand;
- Mid the War's great curse, Stands the Red Cross Nurse,
- She's the rose of "No Man's Land".
French Lyric by Louis Delamarre, 1918
- J'ai vu bien des fleurs s'empourprer,
- Au jardin de la vie.
- Et souvent j'aime à m'enivrer
- De leur senteur be'nie.
- J'en sais une au pur eclat,
- Sans rival ici-bas.
- La rose fleurit sous les Boulets,
- En avant du front elle est
- De pleurs arrosée
- Pour bien des années.
- Dans nos coeurs elle restera,
- La rose rouge amour du soldat.
- Dans cette enceinte où rien ne bouge,
- L'ombre qui parâit,
- Portant la Croix Rouge,
- C'est la Roses des Boulets.