segunda-feira, 25 de agosto de 2008

This is poetry III - 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,
  Though the night was made for loving,
Yet we'll go no more a-roving
  By the light of the moon.

Lord George Gordon Byron

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