posted by soe 9:37 pm
Sunday, it was hard to believe there was a better place on earth to be besides the Tidal Basin. Poetry comes in so many forms:
Loveliest of Trees, the Cherry Now
~ A.E. Housman
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 spring 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.
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