But _hasn't_ Moore said something like it before?'

From the piano I draw forth a peal,
Greeting the sound with a smile and a sigh,
Singing 'The Last Rose of Summer,' I feel
That summer and roses can _never_ die!




'Twas a beautiful evening, fresh and fair,
Earth sweeter far than impossible skies;
My heart beating light as a bird in air,
When Harry brought home with him Jack Devize.

Did no presentiment touch me that day?
Never a _soupçon_ of evil or ill?
No, the world was bright with Harry away,
And when Harry came back it was brighter still.

The man stood there, and his shadow was laid
Straight at my feet by the sunset decrees;
I mark'd it well, and I was not afraid;
And when Harry nam'd him I smil'd with ease.

The roses poured out their exquisite scent,
Birds gave us the sweetest music they had,
And the little grasses daintily bent
In the tender breeze, as if they were glad.