I came upon this flower as I walked this morning in search of photographs. It is, perhaps, the last blossom we will see before the rains and snows of winter arrive. As I took this photograph I was reminded of the first verse of the Irish poet Thomas Moore's beautiful song:
'Tis the last rose of summer
Left blooming alone;
Left blooming alone;
All her lovely companions
Are faded and gone;
No flower of her kindred,
No rodebud is nigh,
To reflect back her blushes,
To give sigh for sigh.
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