This’s the last rose of summer
　　Left blooming alone;
　　All her lovely companions
　　Are faded and gone;
　　No flower of her kindred,
　　No rose-bud 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.

　　Soon may I follow,
　　When friendships decay,
　　And from Love's shining circle
　　The gems drop away.
　　When true hearts lie withered,
　　And fond ones are flown,
　　O! who would inhabit
　　This bleak world alone?