Treasure Island

Thomas Moore

(28 May 1779 – 25 February 1852 / Dublin)

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,
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.

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

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003

Do you like this poem?
2 person liked.
0 person did not like.

What do you think this poem is about?



Read poems about / on: rose, flower, alone, summer, sleep, world

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

improve

Comments about this poem (Tis the Last Rose of Summer by Thomas Moore )

Enter the verification code :

Read all 1 comments »
[Hata Bildir]