We’ll go no more a-roving

– George Gordon, Lord Byron

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.

1817

We’ll go no more a-roving

Thursday, 7 January 2010

First read in, of all places, John Wyndham’s The Day of the Triffids: it was my first Byron poem.