1 The dew lies heavy all around, Nor, till the sun shines, leaves the ground. Far into night we feasting sit; We drink, and none his place may quit.

2 The dew lies heavy, and its gems Stud the luxuriant, grassy stems. The happy night with wassail [feasting] rings; So feasted here the former kings.

3 The jujube and the willow tree All fretted with the dew we see. Each guest's a prince of noble line, In whom the virtues all combine.

4 The tung and e their fruits display, Pendent from every graceful spray. My guests are joyous and serene, No haggard eye, no ruffled mien.