(The Last Rose of Summer, cover of song sheet)
The passing of no other season evokes such melancholy.
NOW
The longed-for summer goes;
Dwindles away
To its last rose,
Its narrowest day.
No heaven-sweet air but must die;
Softlier float
Breathe lingeringly
Its final note.
Oh, what dull truths to tell!
Now is the all-sufficing all
Wherein to love the lovely well,
Whate’er befall.
~ Walter de la Mare (1873-1956), English writer, most famous for his ghost stories and children’s poetry
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