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