Loveliest Of Trees, The Cherry Now

Alfred Edward 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 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.

Next 10 Poems

• Alfred Edward Housman : March
• Alfred Edward Housman : Now Hollow Fires Burn Out To Black
• Alfred Edward Housman : O Why Do You Walk ( A Parody )
• Alfred Edward Housman : Oh Fair Enough Are Sky And Plain
• Alfred Edward Housman : Oh See How Thick The Goldcup Flowers
• Alfred Edward Housman : Oh Stay At Home, My Lad
• Alfred Edward Housman : Oh Who Is That Young Sinner
• Alfred Edward Housman : Oh, When I Was In Love With You
• Alfred Edward Housman : On Moonlit Heath And Lonesome Bank
• Alfred Edward Housman : On The Idle Hill Of Summer

Previous 10 Poems

• Alfred Edward Housman : Look Not In My Eyes, For Fear
• Alfred Edward Housman : Loitering With A Vacant Eye
• Alfred Edward Housman : It Nods And Curtseys And Recovers
• Alfred Edward Housman : Is My Team Ploughing
• Alfred Edward Housman : Into My Heart An Air That Kills
• Alfred Edward Housman : In Valleys Of Springs And Rivers
• Alfred Edward Housman : In My Own Shire, If I Was Sad
• Alfred Edward Housman : If Truth In Hearts That Perish
• Alfred Edward Housman : If By Chance Your Eye Offend You
• Alfred Edward Housman : I Hoed And Trenched And Weeded