Fantasy on "The Last Rose of Summer"
by Greg Andersonfor piano, four-hands
'Tis the last rose of summerLeft blooming alone;All her lovely companionsAre faded and gone;No flower of her kindred,No rosebud is nigh,To reflect back her blushes,To 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 gardenLie scentless and dead.So soon may I follow,When friendships decay,From Love's shining circleThe gems drop away.When true hearts lie witheredAnd fond ones are flown,Oh! who would inhabit,This bleak world alone?- Thomas Moore (1779 - 1852)