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 three score years and ten,
twenty will not come again.
And take from seventy years a score,
It only leaves me fifty more.
And since to look at things in bloom,
Fifty Springs is little room,
About the woodlands I will go
To see the cherry hung with snow.
A. E. Housman
What Spring? Snow Blankets the Northeast.
-
Two to five inches of snow fell over an area stretching from Albany, N.Y.,
to Maine overnight Friday into Saturday morning, forecasters said.
Thanks for sharing this beautiful poem.
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