Poems (Edwards)/The Last Rose
THE LAST ROSE.
The last rose is fading, Its beauty has fled,Its leaves are all withered And drooping and dead.
But still, a sweet fragrance Is stealing around,Though its beautiful petals Lie low on the ground.
'Tis falling, 'tis falling, That beautiful rose,To slumber forever In dreamless repose.
Each breeze that sweeps o'er it Seems sadly to say,"The last rose of summer Is passing away."
'Tis thus that we blossom, 'Tis thus that we die,We bloom with a smile, And depart with a sigh.
But like that sweet rose, May we leave in each heart,A record of worth That shall never depart.