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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=530046" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Young May Moon</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=530046" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The young May moon is beaming, love. <br>The glow-worm's lamp is gleaming, love. <br>How sweet to rove, <br>Through Morna's grove,<br>When the drowsy world is dreaming, love! <br>Then awake! -- the heavens look bright, my dear, <br>'Tis never too late for delight, my dear, <br>And the best of all ways <br>To lengthen our days <br>Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear! </a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=530046" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">Now all the world is sleeping, love, <br>But the Sage, his star-watch keeping, love, <br>And I, whose star, <br>More glorious far, <br>Is the eye from that casement peeping, love. <br>Then awake! -- till rise of sun, my dear, <br>The Sage's glass we'll shun, my dear, <br>Or, in watching the flight <br>Of bodies of light, <br>He might happen to take thee for one, my dear.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=Thomas+Moore">Thomas Moore</a></strong></div>

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