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The Last Rose of Summer
by
Thomas Moore


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’Tis the last rose of summer
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,
And 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?

This poem is in the public domain.

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Thomas Moore (1779 - 1852) was an Irish poet, composer, and songwriter who enjoyed both fame and financial success from his writing throughout his lifetime. Though Irish by birth, Thomas lived most of his life in London; nonetheless, he is considered Ireland’s national poet. Fond of a good time, Thomas avoided prison at one point by moving to Bermuda until his debts in London could be paid. He was a close friend of Lord Byron, internationally known for his songs and poems and, at one point, Edgar Allan Poe pronounced Thomas "the most popular poet now living".


Post New Comment:
Buckner14:
I heard the music in my head as I read--just lovely. For the first time I realized that my poem "October Roses" has a companion piece. Maybe Moore's poem had been lying dormant all these years, waiting for the right moment to nudge me! Down here in Cary, we're hoping this is the last DAY of the hottest summer on record!
Posted 09/25/2010 12:25 PM


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