The Last Rose of Summer

The Last Rose of Summer 

’TIS the last rose of summer 

Left blooming alone; 

All her lovely companions 

Are faded and gone; 

No flower of her kindred, 

No rosebud is nigh, 

To reflect back her blushes, 

To give sigh for sigh. 

I’ll not leave thee, thou lone one! 

To pine on the stem; 

Since the lovely are sleeping, 

Go, sleep thou with them. 

Thus kindly I scatter 

Thy leaves o’er the bed, 

Where thy mates of the garden 

Lie scentless and dead. 

So soon may I follow, 

When friendships decay, 

And from Love’s shining circle 

The gems drop away. 

When true hearts lie withered 

And fond ones are flown, 

Oh! who would inhabit 

This bleak world alone?