A Night Song
by Thomas Moore

The young May moon is beaming; love,
The glow-worm’s lamp is gleaming,
How sweet to rove through Morna’s grove,
When the drowsy world is dreaming, love!
Then awake! The heav’ns look bright, my dear,
‘Tis ne’er too late for delight,
and best of all the ways to lengthen days
is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear,
When the drowsy world is dreaming, love!