The Last Rose Of Summer

02. avgust 2011 ob 21:57 | 153
This is the last rose of summer,
left blooming alone;
All the 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 break world alone?

Thomas Moore

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