Poetry Lord Byron

I’m not into nineteenth century Romantic Poets.

But this one stands out

So we’ll go no more a roving, written in 1817.




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 it’s sheath,
And the soul outwears 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.

I always think of my first fiancée when I read this. And the time we went to Newstead Abbey, home of Byron.