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 outwears 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,
we will go no more a roving,
by the light of the moon.

-Lord Byron