I’ll not leave thee, thou lone one, to pine on the stem
Since the lovely are sleeping, go sleep thou with them
Thus kindly I’ll scatter thy leaves o’er the bed
Where thy mates of the garden lie scentless and dead
So soon may I follow when friendships decay
And from love’s shining circle the gems drop away
When true hearts lie wither’d and fond ones are flown
Oh! Who would inhabit this bleak world alone?