While browsing idly on the web, I found this touching poem by Lord Byron. Quite aptly, a blogger has used this as his RIP post.
Paraphrasing it here for future reference
SO we'll go no more a-rovingParaphrasing it here for future reference
So We'll Go No More a-Roving
So late into the night,
Though the heart still be as loving,
And the moon still be as bright.
For the sword outwears its sheath,
And the soul outwears 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.








