'Tis the last rose of summer, 

Left blooming alone. 

All her lovely companions 

Are faded and gone. 

No flow'r of her kindred, 

No rosebud is nigh, 

To reflect back her blushes 

Or 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, 

And from loves' shining circle 

The gems drop away! 

When true hearts lie withered 

And fond ones are flown 

Oh! Who would inhabit 

This bleak world alone?