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?