Lastroseofsummer moore rn
Tis the last rose of summer, Left blooming alone, All her lovely companions Are faded and gone, No flower of her kindred, No rose-bud is nigh, To reflect back her blushes, Or 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, O, who would inhabit this bleak world alone?
