The last rose of summer,
fragrant blossom and frail dainty,
Fall is upon us and your beauty will soon expire,
falling finally from faded, flaccid form.
Yet bold you adventure to come forth now,
to grow and glow and burst with beauty bright
to cheerf'lly decorate the dying landscape with your joy,
while all about you collects the dusty leaves of yesterday.
Yet you will fade and fall:
Autumn's winds and Winter's rains
will wash all memories of you from this place;
and in stark pose, the denuded rose
will stand in deathly cold and spiny salute to its fallen flowers.
- D. Benning
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