Tis the last rose of summer,
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Left blooming alone,
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All her lovely companions
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Are faded and gone.
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No flow'r of her kindred
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No rosebud is nigh
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To reflect back her blushes,
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Or give sigh for sigh.
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I'll not leave thee, thou lone one,
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To pine on the stem,
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Since the lovely are sleeping,
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Go, sleep thou with them
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Thus kindly I'll scatter
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Thy leaves o'er the bed,
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Where thy mates of the garden
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Lie scentless and dead.
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So soon may I follow
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When friendships decay;
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And from love's shining circle
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The gems drop away
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When true hearts lie wither'd
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And fond ones are flow'n
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Oh! Who would inhabit
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This bleak world alone?
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The Last Rose of Summer
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Charlotte Church |