Mammogram Roses

Photography by Nancy Houser


Tis the last rose of Summer,
 left blooming alone;  
All her lovely companions are faded and gone; No flower of her kindred, No rose-bud is nigh reflect back her blushes. Or 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 garden Lie scentless and dead.

So soon may I follow, When friendships decay, And from Love’s shining circle The gems drop away! When true hearts lie withered, And fond ones are flown, Oh! who would inhabit This bleak alone?

-- public domain




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