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 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.
3 comments:
That's gorgeous. Thanks for posting it.
No, I think that's Keats.
The way the meter and rhythm push against each other in the final line--by the light of the moon--the sense that a syllable is missing. Masterful.
I first read that in Italy for some reason. I had a random anthology and it was there. It really struck me.
Byron wrote it when he was 29; it was a kind of farewell to his hard partying days.
Post a Comment