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- So We'll Go No More a Roving
- By 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.
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