Young Woman Reading by a Window - Delphin Enjolras 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? Thomas Moore (28th May 1779 – 25th February 1852) |
Thursday 30 August 2012
The Thursday Poem
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