Hey, Heather; good to hear from you-- It's an Irish song, one of Thomas Moore's poems set to music.

THE LAST ROSE OF SUMMER
Thomas Moore

'Tis the last rose of summer left blooming alone,
All her lovely companions are faded and gone.
No flow'r of her kindred, no rosebud is nigh. . .
to reflect back her blushes, or give sigh for sigh!

I'll not leave thee, lone one, to pine on the stem:
Since the lovely are sleeping, go sleep thou with them;
Thus kindly I scatter thy leaves o'er thy bed,
Where thy mates of the garden lie scentless and dead.

Too soon may I follow, when friendships decay,
And from love's shining circle the gems drop away!
When true hearts are wither'd and fond ones are flown...
Oh! Who would inhabit this bleak world alone?

Hope you enjoy it... Bill Foster