by Thomas More
'Tis the last rose of summer
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone;
No flower of her kindred,
No rosebud is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes,
To give sigh for sigh.
from Sing a Song of Seasons
A Nature Poem for Each Day of the Year
selected by Fiona Waters
illustrated by Frann Preston-Gannon
Candlewick Press, 2018
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