so we'll go no more a-roving

Portrait of George Gordon, 6th Lord Byron
Thomas Phillips


One day the news came to the village–the dire news which spread across the land, filling men’s hearts with consternation–that Byron was dead. Tennyson was then a boy about fifteen.

‘Byron was dead! I thought the whole world was at an end,’ he once said, speaking of these bygone days. ‘I thought everything was over and finished for everyone–that nothing else mattered. I remember I walked out alone, and carved “Byron is dead” into the sandstone.’


Lady Ritchie, Records


‘So we'll go no more a-roving’
By George Gordon, Lord Byron


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.