Thomas Moore

(28 May 1779 – 25 February 1852 / Dublin)

Tis The Last Rose Of Summer

Poem by Thomas Moore

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?

Comments about Tis The Last Rose Of Summer by Thomas Moore

  • Ruta MohapatraRuta Mohapatra (12/28/2017 11:56:00 AM)

    ' When true alone'....Liked the stanza(Report)Reply

    1 person liked.
    0 person did not like.
  • Okoye Charles ChukwudiOkoye Charles Chukwudi (4/23/2012 9:42:00 AM)

    This poem...brought tears to my eyes...i luv it so(Report)Reply

    7 person liked.
    1 person did not like.
Read all 2 comments »

Read this poem in other languages

This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.

I would like to translate this poem »

word flags

What do you think this poem is about?

Read poems about / on: rose, flower, alone, summer, sleep, world

Poem Submitted: Friday, January 3, 2003

[Report Error]