Last Poems (Housman)/The half-moon westers low, my love

by Alfred Edward Housman

XXVI

The half-moon westers low, my love, And the wind brings up the rain;And wide apart lie we, my love, And seas between the twain.

I know not if it rains, my love, In the land where you do lie;And oh, so sound you sleep, my love, You know no more than I.