“’T is the last rose of summer”

From “Irish Melodies” ’T IS 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,   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?