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