| ‘Tis the last rose of summer
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| Left blooming all alone,
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| All her lovely companions
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| Are faded and gone.
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| No flower of her kindred,
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| No rose bud is nigh,
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| To reflect back her blushes,
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| And 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 now with them.
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| Thus kindly I 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 withered
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| And fond ones are flown
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| Oh! |
| Who would inhabit
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| This bleak world alone? |