Hayley Westenra Celtic Treasure The Last Rose of Summer This the last rose of summer Left blooming all alone All her lovely companions Are faded and gone No flower of her kindred No rose bud is nigh To reflect back her blushes And give sigh for sigh
Ill not leave thee, thou lone one To pine on the stem Since the lovely are sleeping Go sleep now with them Thus kindly I scatter Thy leaves oer the bed Where thy mates of the garden Lie scentless and dead
So soon may I follow When friendships decay And from loves shining circle The gems drop away! When true hearts lie withered And fond ones are flown Oh! Who would inhabit This bleak world alone?