There's no Byron on this thread.
SO. WE'LL GO NO MORE A-ROVING
I
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.
II
For the sword out wears its sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must pause to breathe,
And love itself have rest.
III
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.
Damn, the last line gave me goosebumps, just like it did the first time I read it, when I was 18.
That was based on a bawdy song, "The Maid of Amsterdam", apologies to Melusine.
