Last Rose

'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 withered,
    And fond ones are flown,
Oh! who would inhabit
    This bleak world alone?


The Last Rose of Summer, by Thomas Moore


Left the house in the evening to go for a short walk and there it was, looking right at me. I guess I don't have the spine of Thomas Moore, 'cause I left it right there on the bush. Give me some time and I may well come around to his way of thinking...

If you prefer the poem to music you could do worse than this version here.

Of course, as a former "flautist" who was fortunate to see James Galway live as kid, I'm a sucker for his version.

But it sounds good on the koto too.

And now that I've listened to about a hundred different versions of this I'm finding it hard not to start blubbering, so I'd better stop here.