Posted by: W. E. Poplaski | September 1, 2008

POEM OF THE DAY: ‘Tis the Last Rose of Summer

by Thomas Moore (1779 – 1852).

 

 ‘Tis the Last Rose of Summer

 

‘Tis the last rose of summer

Left blooming alone;

All her lovely companions

Are faded and gone;

No flower of her kindred,                                 5

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;                                        10

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                   15

Lie scentless and dead.

 

So soon may I follow,

When friendships decay,

From Love’s shining circle

The gems drop away.                                      20

When true hearts lie withered

And fond ones are flown,

Oh! who would inhabit,

This bleak world alone?

 

Notes:

http://www.contemplator.com/history/tmoore.html

http://rpo.library.utoronto.ca/poet/233.html

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