Regretful
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.
George Gordon, Lord Byron
George Gordon, Lord Byron (1788-1824) included these verses, ‘So, We’ll Go No More A-Roving’, in a letter to his friend Tom Moore after staying up all night for the masked ball at the Fenice Theatre in Venice. He wrote the verses in a state of sexual exhaustion after enjoying the excitements of his first Carnival – Venice was the first city in Europe for sex-tourism at the time.
