Acer hearts

LOVELIEST of trees, the acer now
Is strung with red along its boughs
And stands out in the drizzling rain
Reminding us it's May again.
Now, of my threescore years and ten,
Too many will not come again,
And since to look at things in bloom
Cannot be done beyond the tomb,
About the garden I will rhyme
And praise the acer in its prime.

Apologies / acknowledgement to A E Housman