SO, WE´LL BE NO MORE A ROVING
So, we'll go no more a roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart be still as
loving,
And the moon be still as
bright.
For the sword outwears its
sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to
breathe,
And love itself have rest.
Though the night was made for
loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we'll go no more a roving
By the light of the moon.
LORD BYRON (GEORGE GORDON)
