It’s been a while since I came across A E Housman, but this lovely poem is just right for Easter and the first cherry blossoms that are braving the April winds.

Prunus, wild cherry blossomLoveliest 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, ‘A Shropshire Lad