So We'll Go No More A Roving - Lord Byron | Eternal Poems

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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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AUTHOR:
George Gordon Byron (aka Lord Byron) was born on January 22, 1788 in London, England. He was a poet, a politician and was one of the leading figures of the Romantic movement.

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ATTRIBUTION:
Lord Byron's portrait from Daderot, CC0, via Wikimedia Commons

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