I. The Pih shan

1 I climb that hill upon the north, And gather medlars on its side. Active and vigorous, I go forth, And morn and night I walk or ride. I serve the king with eager will;— But great the grief my parents feel!

2 Where'er their arch the heavens expand, The king [under GOD] can claim the land below. Within the sea-bounds of the land, All at his summons come or go. His ministers unfairly act; They praise me, but with toils distract.

3 Four ceaseless steeds my care engage; The king's affairs no rest allow. They say I bear no trace of age, While few, they think, such vigour show. While my backbone remains unbent, In work my life must still be spent.

4 Some rest in careless ease, supine; Some for the State themselves wear out. On softest couches some recline; Others, unhalting, march about.

5 Some never hear a clamorous sound; Others toil on 'midst rude alarms. Some idle on their backs are found; And some bear loads with head and arms.

6 Some feast, and fearless seek new joys; Some live in constant dread of blame. Some the harsh critic's work employs; Others their numerous duties claim.

II. The Woo tseang ta keu

1 Push not the cart you stand behind;— You'll only raise the dust. Nor dwell On your anxieties of mind;— You'll only make yourself unwell.

2 Push not the cart you stand behind;— The dust will only blind your view. Dwell not on things that vex your mind;— You never thus can see them true.

3 Push not the cart you stand behind;— The dust will but becloud your eyes. Heed not the troubles of your mind;— 'Twill weigh you as you seek to rise.

III. The Seaou ming

1 O Heaven [GOD] above, before whose light Revealed is every deed and thought, To Thee I cry. Hither on toilsome service brought, In this wild K'ew I watch time's flight, And sadly sigh. The second month had just begun, When from the east we took our way. Through summer hot We passed, and many a wintry day. Summer again its course has run. O bitter lot! There are my compeers, gay at court, While here the tears my face begrime. I'd fain return. But there is that dread net for crime! The fear of it the wish cuts short. In vain I burn!

2 Ere we the royal city left, The sun and moon renewed the year. We marched in hope. Now to its close this year is near. Return deferred, of hope bereft, All mourn and mope. My lonesome state haunts aye my breast, While duties grow, and cares increase, Too hard to bear. Toils that oppress me never cease; Not for a moment dare I rest, Nigh to despair. I think with fond regard of those, Who in their posts at court remain, My friends of old. Fain would I be with them again, But fierce reproof return would cause. This post I hold.

3 When for the west I left my home, The sun and moon both brightly shone, Our hearts to cheer. We'd soon be back, our service done! Alas! affairs more urgent come, And fix us here. The year is hastening to expire. We gather now the southernwood, The beans we reap;— That for its fragrance, these for food. Such things that constant care require Me anxious keep. Thinking of friends still at their posts, I rise and pass the night outside, So vexed my mind. But soon what changes may betide? I here will stay, whate'er it costs, And be resigned.

4 My honoured friends, O do not deem Your rest which seems secure from ill Will ever last! Your duties quietly fulfil, And hold the upright in esteem, With friendship fast. So shall [GOD] hear your cry, You virtuous make, and good supply, In measure vast.

5 My honoured friends, O do not deem Repose that seems secure from ill Will lasting prove. Your duties quietly fulfil, And hold the upright in esteem, With earnest love. So shall [GOD] hear your prayer, And on you happiness confer, Your hopes above.

IV. The Koo chung

1 How peal the royal bells, As the Hwae sweeps along to the main! A tale their music tells, Waking thoughts in my mind full of pain. Before me back it sadly brings The memory of our virtuous kings; And they live in my fancy again!

2 Loud roll the royal drums, As the Hwae rushes on to the deep. A vanished memory comes In their sound which compels me to weep,— The memory of our kings of old, Whose virtue flawless still we hold, Though the kings in their sepulchres sleep.

3 Bells peal and drums resound, As the Hwae its three islands displays. They stir a grief profound In my heart that no revel allays. The virtue of our kings of yore A stamp of truth and beauty bore, Such as never we see now-a-days.

4 K'in-k'in the bells peal on, And the lutes in the concert we hear. Deep breathes the organ tone; Sounding stones join their notes, rich and clear, The while through the vessel there ring The Ya and the Nan which they sing, And the dancers with flutes now appear.

V. The Ts'oo ts'ze

1 Here grew the tribulus around, Till of its thorns they cleared the ground;— Of old this work was wrought. Our fathers laboured for our good, That millet we might plant for food, And millet used in sacrifice, Both yielding to us large supplies;— So for us took they thought. Now when our barns are filled with grain, And myriad stacks in field remain, [Drink] and viands we prepare, To use on grand occasions rare, In sacrificial rite [to GOD]. So shall [GOD] our service own, And deign our happiness to crown, With blessings still more bright.

2 With reverent air, in dress correct, With sheep and oxen pure, select, When autumn comes, and winter cold, Our temple services we hold, And offer sacrifice. The victims slain some haste to flay; Some boil the flesh; on stands some lay The pieces boiled, which some dispose In order due, exact and close, According to their size. [The] filial son, our honoured lord, Great blessing gets. [GOD] will reward With myriad years his duty shown, And sure maintain upon the throne His sons till time shall end.

3 Before the fires some reverent stand; Some take the mighty trays in hand; These with the roasted flesh they fill, Those with the livers broiled. Then still And reverent, the queen presides, And every smaller dish provides, The pious feast to grace. The guests and visitors draw near. [Invited], now they all appear, And take an honoured place. Each word and smile just that is found, Which word and smile should be, The [angels] come in quiet state, And answer give with blessings great. Myriads of years—his due reward— Shall show how they our lord regard.

4 Exhausted now we feel, but see Our every rite from error free. The able priest has learned the will Of the great [GOD]. To fulfil His part he hastes, and to our lord, Standing before him, with grave word, His message thus conveys:— "Your sacrifice has filled the air With fragrance. Both your [drink] rare And viands rich [the needy] enjoy. Blessings not few, without alloy, [He gives];—each all that you could hope, Each sure as law's unerring scope. Exact in form, without delay, Due reverence you have striven to pay. From error free, discharged with care, Your ceremonies all declare Your filial heart. [GOD] henceforth Will favours grant of greatest worth, For myriad years, and myriads more, Nor time exhaust the boundless store." 'Tis this the wise priest says.

5 The rites thus all performed exact, The drums and bells announce the fact. Our lord withdraws, and takes his way Where parting guests their homage pay. Then comes the wise priest's voice:— "The [guests] all are satisfied." So ends the sacrifice. The queen and who the queen attend, And all the servants, haste to clear The hall, that nothing may appear Left from the sacred rites. Those who are of the royal kin, The old and young, abide within. The surname of the king they bear, And to the special feast repair, To which his grace invites.

6 All the musicians follow fast, Their special aid at this repast The feasters shall not fail. The mats the viands rich display; No face looks sad, but all are gay. They drink, they eat, with fullest zest; Dish after dish, well pleased they taste; Great love and joy prevail. At last they rise, and to their lord First bow their heads with one accord; Then him they thus address:— "Rich viands and your [drink] rare, All testified your pious care. [All the guests] partook; On you benignantly [He looks]. Your term of life [He will extend], And favours give that ne'er shall end. As through the year the seasons move, Your pious feelings equal prove Fully each sacrifice to pay. So may it be in future day, And sons and grandsons of your line, Observant of these rites divine, The ceremony bless!"

VI. The Sin nan shan

1 Yes, all about that southern hill, Great Yu pursued his wondrous toil. He drained the plain, the marsh he dried; Our lord in fields laid out the soil. Their boundaries we now define, As south, or east, the fields incline.

2 The wintry heavens, one arch of clouds, Send down the flakes that fill the sky. Then come the drizzling rains of spring, That moisture, with the snow, supply, To soak and fit the ground for use, And in its season grain produce.

3 The plots, arranged in order fit, The millets in abundance bear. So shall our lord the harvest view; While food and [drink] we prepare, For those in whom our sires [are remembered], And guests who at the feast attend.

4 The central plot the huts contains, While gourds each path and boundary line. Their fruits preserved, aside we put, Till 'mong the offerings they shall shine. So through [his piety] our lord shall gain Long life, and gifts from Heaven [GOD] obtain.

5 The fragrant [drinks] first are poured; Then near the gate the bull is led;— So we [honour in memory] our sires. To show the victim pure and red, The knife with bells slides through the hair. Its blood and fat away we bear.

6 Then all our offerings we present [to GOD], Diffusing round a fragrance great. How brilliant is the sacrifice! Our ancestors in kingly state [Are honoured in memory]; but [GOD] shall send Blessing and life,—years without end!

VII. The P'oo t'een

1 Bright shine my wide-spread fields before the eye, That yearly to the king a tithe supply. From olden times the crops have plenteous been; Each year has left to feed my husbandmen Sufficient store. Now to the ground I go, Where their rich soil the southern acres show, Some weed; some gather earth around the roots; Each millet plant luxuriantly upshoots. There I call round me in a spacious place The brightest youths, with cheering words to grace.

2 Heaped in the vessels, bright the millet shone; Pure were the victim-rams. Last harvest done, We thanked [GOD, Lord] of the land and air, From whom the joyous husbandmen declare The copious produce of the year had come. Now with our lutes and the resounding drum, To [GOD, who] taught men tillage first we cry, And ask for rain to help our husbandry. So shall our millets grow. Each field now thrives, To bless our labourers, and bless their wives.

3 Our lord of long descent now comes this way, Just as their wives and children food convey To those who on the southern acres toil. The Inspector of the fields appears meanwhile Glad he looks on, and of the simple food The dishes tastes, to see if it be good. The hand of skill appears in every field; 'Tis sure ere long luxuriant crop to yield. Our lord complacent looks, and in his view The toilers feel their zeal inspired anew.

4 The reapers soon the crops will take in hand, Which curving down, and thick as thatch, shall stand. Lo! numerous stacks are built all o'er the grounds, Rising like islands, seen from far like mounds. Thousands of granaries must our lord prepare, And carts in myriads home their loads shall bear. With radiant joy each husbandman surveys The millets stored, the rice crop and the maize. Then all shall pray for blessing on our lord, For myriad years.—Such shall be his reward!

VIII. The Ta t'een

1 Various the toils which fields so large demand! We choose the seed; we take our tools in hand. In winter for our work we thus prepare; Then in the spring, bearing the sharpened share, We to the acres go that south incline, And to the earth the different seeds consign. Soon, straight and large, upward each plant aspires;— All happens as our noble lord desires.

2 The plants will ear; within their sheath confined, The grains will harden, and be good in kind. Nor darnel these, nor wolf's-tail grass infests; From core and leaf we pick the insect pests, And pick we those that eat the joints and roots:— So do we guard from harm the growing fruits. May the great [GOD], whom each farmer names, Those insects take, and cast them to the flames!

3 The clouds o'erspread the sky in masses dense, And gentle rain down to the earth dispense. First may the public fields the blessing get, And then with it our private fields we wet! Patches of unripe grain the reaper leaves; And here and there, ungathered are the sheaves. Handfuls besides we drop upon the ground, And ears untouched in numbers lie around;— These by the poor and widows shall be found.

4 When wives and children to the toilers come, Bringing provisions from each separate home, Our lord of long descent shall oft appear; The Inspector also, glad the men to cheer. They too shall thank [GOD, Lord] of the air, With sacrifices pure for all [His] care; Now red, now black, the victims that they slay, As south or north the sacrifice they pay; While millet bright the altars always show;— And we shall thus still greater blessings know.

IX. The Chen loh

1 Fitness for war, 'mid peace, we here acquire, Around the Loh, whose waters, broad and deep, Flow swiftly on. Eastward our king has come, Of happiness and dignities the fount. His red knee-covers, madder-dyed, shine bright;— So his six hosts to battle he would lead.

2 Fitness for war, 'mid peace, we here acquire, Around the Loh, whose waters, broad and deep, Flow swiftly on. Eastward our king has come, With gems far gleaming round his scabbard's mouth. Long may he live;—for myriads of years, And still maintain the fortunes of his House!

3 Fitness for war, 'mid peace, we here acquire, Around the Loh, whose waters, broad and deep Flow swiftly on. Eastward our king has come, Happy, and of all dignities possessed. Long may he live;—for myriads of years, Preserving safe his many Clans and States!

X. The Shang-shang chay hwa

1 Like the flowers which splendid shine, Amidst the leaves that cluster dense, Are these noble lords of mine, On whom I look with joy intense. All that my heart desires in them is met; Praise and good fortune they deserve to get.

2 Like the flowers that splendid shine, Displaying yellow's deepest hue, Are these noble lords of mine, In whom such elegance I view. In all their words and manners is no flaw;— So to themselves all blessing shall they draw.

3 Like the flowers that splendid shine, Some yellow, some of purest white, Are these noble lords of mine, Urging their steeds to rapid flight. White are the steeds they drive, but black their manes, And soft and glossy in their hands the reins!

4 Left or right they wheel and move. Each order given they straight obey. Instant their skill and power they prove Equal, as needed, to display. Boundless resources in themselves there dwell; 'Tis right their outward movements should excel!