Mnemonic Monday 3: So We’ll Go No More a Roving

Previously On:
“Ulysses,” by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

I’m happy to report that Tennyson’s “Ulysses” is mostly in my head. More or less. Let’s not discuss my proficiency here. On the upside, “As I Walked Out One Evening” has held up for the duration.

To balance my previous overreach with an underreach, I’ve chosen a short poem by Lord Byron which I was able to [mostly] memorize the first time I wrote it out longhand:

So We’ll Go No More a Roving by Lord Byron (George Gordon)

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.

Thought 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.

The trickiest part is remembering the “yet” in the penultimate line. My brain’s autopilot likes to jump back to the titular opening line here. Ta-da.

Look, it’s a snow day. How hard do you want me to work?

And here’s an excellent reading by Tom Hiddleston, whose smooth voice treats the second stanza very kindly:

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