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.