An Eastertide mini-challenge from Joe: Housman uses a mixture of biblical and poetic language and math to reveal to the reader exactly how old he was when he wrote this poem. So... how old was he?
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.