I’ve only just started reading yesterday’s paper,
but it’s kicked me right in the chest. The Observer have given away a little book of Lord Byron poems, and just read this one without thinking of every break-up you’ve ever lived through.
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.
Lord Byron.
