Almost all the snow has gone, but there is still some chill in the early morning breeze. There are still some small patches of snow along the road, but spring is rappidly moving, and Easter has already arrived. Some say that this week should be a time of solemn reflextion, quiet reading of books and chocolate, to some degree I agree.
’TIS spring; come out to ramble
The hilly brakes around,
For under thorn and bramble
About the hollow ground
The primroses are found.
And there’s the windflower chilly
With all the winds at play,
And there’s the Lenten lily
That has not long to stay
And dies on Easter day.
And since till girls go maying
You find the primrose still,
And find the windflower playing
With every wind at will,
But not the daffodil,
Bring baskets now, and sally
Upon the spring’s array,
And bear from hill and valley
The daffodil away
That dies on Easter day.
A.E. Housman
