Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. IV. The Nineteenth Century: Wordsworth to Rossetti

Thomas Moore (1779–1852)

The Young May Moon

THE YOUNG May moon is beaming, love,

The glow-worm’s lamp is gleaming, love,

How sweet to rove

Through Morna’s grove,

When the drowsy world is dreaming, love!

Then awake!—the heavens look bright, my dear,

’Tis never too late for delight, my dear,

And the best of all ways

To lengthen our days,

Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear!

Now all the world is sleeping, love,

But the Sage, his star-watch keeping, love,

And I, whose star,

More glorious far,

Is the eye from that casement peeping, love.

Then awake!—till rise of sun, my dear,

The Sage’s glass we ’ll shun, my dear,

Or, in watching the flight

Of bodies of light,

He might happen to take thee for one, my dear.