'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?