Tis the last rose of summer blooming all alone, All her companions Are faded and gone. No flower of her kindred, rose bud is nigh, To reflect back her blushes, And give sigh for
I’ll not leave thee, thou lone one, To pine on the stem. Since lovely are sleeping, Go sleep now with them. Thus I scatter Thy leaves o’er the bed Where mates of the garden Lie and dead.
So soon may I follow When friendships And from love’s shining circle The gems drop away! When true hearts lie withered And fond are flown Oh! Who would inhabit This bleak world alone?