I. The Kaou k'ew; narrative. SOME OFFICER OF KWEI LAMENTS OVER THE FRIVOLOUS CHARACTER OF HIS RULER, FOND OF DISPLAYING HIS ROBES, INSTEAD OF ATTENDING TO THE DUTIES OF GOVERNMENT.

1 In lamb's-fur robe you lounge about, Hold court in fox-fur clad. Such habits wake my anxious thought;— My weary heart is sad. When thus you slight each rule of dress, Must not your rule be bad?

2 Aimless you roam in lamb's-fur robe, In fox-fur grace the hall. Such habits wake my anxious thought, And fill my heart with gall. When thus you slight the laws of dress, You'll heed no laws at all.

3 Your glossy lamb's-fur in the sun Gleams as with ointment's sheen. 'Tis this that wakes my anxious thought, My heart's core pierces keen. That thus you slight the laws of dress, Is sorry sign I ween.

II. The Soo kwan; narrative. SOME ONE DEPLORES THE DECAY OF FILIAL FEELING, AS SEEN IN THE NEGLECT OF THE MOURNING HABIT.

1 O that I saw the mourning robe of white, Assumed when two years from the death are o'er, And earnest mourner's form, to leanness worn! Not seeing this, my heart with grief is sore.

2 O that I saw the lower robe to match This cap of white! I'd with the wearer go, And live with him, my heart eased of its smart,— Its sadness gone, such mourner true to know.

3 O that I saw the white knee-covers worn, Suiting the cap and skirt! I should feel bound To him whose lasting grief so sought relief. The sympathy would heal my heart's deep wound.

III. The Sih yew ch'ang-ts'oo; narrative. SOME ONE, GROANING UNDER THE OPPRESSION OF THE GOVERNMENT, WISHES HE WERE AN UNCONSCIOUS TREE.

1 Where the grounds are wet and low, There the trees of goat-peach grow, With their branches small and smooth, Glossy in their tender youth. Joy it were to me, O tree, Consciousness to want like thee.

2 Where the grounds are wet and low, There the trees of goat-peach grow. Soft and fragrant are their flowers, Glossy from the vernal showers. Joy it were to me, O tree, Ties of home to want like thee.

3 Where the grounds are wet and low, There the trees of goat-peach grow. What delicious fruits they bear, Glossy, soft, of beauty rare! Joy it were to me, O tree, Household cares to want like thee.

IV. The Fei fung; narrative and allusive. SOME ONE TELLS HIS SORROW FOR THE DECAY OF THE POWER OF CHOW.

1 Not for the stormy wind, Nor rushing chariots' roar, But when I view the road to Chow,— I'm pained to my heart's core.

2 Not for the whirlwind's sweep, Nor car's unsteady roll, But when I view the road to Chow,— Deep sadness dulls my soul.

3 For one who fish can cook, His boilers I would clear; So him whose heart beats westward true, With these good words I cheer.