A. E. Housman: The Lent Lily

The Lent Lily

'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.