Loveliest of trees, the cherry now
Is hung with bloom along the bough,
And stands about the woodland ride
Wearing white for Eastertide.
![](https://www.cinnamonandsassafras.com/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/DSC_78122-e1559335870689-685x1024.jpg)
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.
Nice post 🙂
Reblogged this on Nature’s Abhorred Vacuum.
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