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So, we'll go 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 word 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.

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George Gordon Byron, 6th Baron Byron (22 January 1788–19 April 1824)

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in memory of: Dean Benson and Guy Zeleneck

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