Poem for the day

So we`ll 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 it`s sheath,
And the soul wears out the breast,
And the heart must puase to breath,
And Love itself have rest.

THough the night was made for loving,
And the day returns too soon,
Yet we`ll no more a-roving
By the light of the moon.