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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