The half-moon westers low, my love

by A. E. Housman

    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.