Traditional: 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, oh, sleep thou with them

Thus kindly I scatter thy leaves o'er the bed

Where thy mates o'er the garden lie senseless 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 inherit this bleak world alone?