Loveliest of trees, the cherry
now
Is hung with bloom along the
bough,
And stands about the woodland
ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.
Now, of my threescore years and
ten,
Twenty will not come again,
And take from seventy springs a
score,
It only leaves me fifty more.
And since to look at things in
bloom
Fifty springs are little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.
A. E. Housman
(Picture: Hydrangeas, Hishida Shunso)
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