'Tis the last rose of summer
Left blooming alone;
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,
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,
From Love's shining circle
The gems drop away.
When true hearts lie withered
And fond ones are flown,
Oh! who would inhabit,
This bleak world alone?
~ The Last Rose of Summer: Thomas Moore 1805
6 comments:
That's so sad.....
Sad, in its last moment ....
Always sad to see flower blossoms in their last moments.
Our roses are still hanging on, but I don't think we'll have too many more blossoms this year.
What a sad poem, but yet lovely. I have a few white roses left, bravely surviving the low 30 degree temps we've been having at night. I'm amazed and awed by their tenacity and desire to survive and willingness to keep blessing me every day.
Cindy
Beautiful photo and poem, Have a great day !
It's always sad to see the last rose of summer wilt. I had a Fairy Rose that bloomed late but still had blossoms when the first snow hit...you've got to love a rose like that. Beautiful poem Jo. Have a wonderful day.
Maura :)
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