Mammogram Roses
Photography by Nancy Houser Tis the last rose of Summer, l eft blooming alone; All her lovely companions a re 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
