I. The Sang-hoo

1 Flitting round the greenbeaks see, With their wings of brilliancy! Birds they are that men admire; More those lords my soul inspire With admiring joy and love. Heaven [GOD] will bless them from above!

2 Here and there the greenbeaks light, Showing necks with feathers bright. Who but must the creatures prize? But it more delights my eyes, When these noble lords are seen, Who my States from danger screen.

3 Screens they are, and bulwarks strong; All the chiefs around them throng, And on them as patterns gaze. Self-restraint each hero lays On himself,—from folly free;— Great their happiness must be!

4 See the mighty cup of horn, Round their ranks in order borne! Full of [drink] soft and good, It excites no conduct rude. Surely blessings haste to greet Lords of virtue so complete!

II. The Yuen-yang

1 The Yellow ducks, full grown, take wing and fly; For them the men both hand and spread-nets ply;— So greatly they their beauty prize. May the king's life ten thousand years extend, While wealth and happiness that know no end Heaven [GOD], as deserved, to him supplies!

2 The Yellow ducks upon the dam oft rest; Each with its left wing 'gainst its neighbour's pressed;— Their mutual fondness thus they show. Heaven to the king ten thousand years assign! And blessings lasting in unbroken line Upon his merit great bestow!

3 The stables large the teams of steeds contain;— In peace with forage, and in war with grain, Abundantly they are supplied. May the king's life extend ten thousand years, While all that lengthened time no sign appears Of wealth or happiness denied!

4 The stables large contain the numerous teams;— Forage they get in peace; in war there gleams In every manger store of grain. Ten thousand years may our great sovereign live, And Heaven the wealth and blessing ever give, Which shall his comforting maintain!

III. The Kwei pen

1 In their bonnets of deerskin, who are they that haste? Who the [drinks] so good, and such viands may taste? Not a stranger among them, but all of thy kin,— Certes none but thy brethren such honour could win. As the mosses and mistletoe cling to the tree, So their hearts, O our sovereign, cling closely to thee. While they see not thy face, they are restless and sad, But a smile from thy lips makes them happy and glad.

2 In their bonnets of deerskin, who are they that haste? Who such viands in season and [drinks] may taste? Not a stranger among them, thy brethren are here; Only they at such banquet with thee could appear. As the mosses and mistletoe grow on the pine, So their hearts, O our sovereign, around thee entwine. While they see not thy face, all is dark and forlorn, But a glance from thine eyes is to them as the morn.

3 In their bonnets of deerskin, adorning each head, Now they quaff the clear [drinks], and lordly are fed. With thy brothers are kinsmen of every degree; Near or distant, they share the banquet with thee. When the sleet first descends, weatherwise, we well know, Winter soon will be here with its garments of snow. Death and mourning may come in our moments of glee; 'Tis not long, O ye guests, that each other you'll see. O'er your [lawful] cups now be glad, when the day-light has ceased, And do thou, O our sovereign, rejoice in the feast.

IV. The Keu hea

1 With axle creaking, all on fire I went, To fetch my young and lovely bride. No thirst or hunger pangs my bosom rent,— I only longed to have her by my side. I feast with her, whose virtue fame had told, Nor need we friends our rapture to behold.

2 The long-tailed pheasants surest covert find, Amid the forest on the plain. Here from my virtuous bride, of noble mind, And person tall, I wisdom gain. I praise her while we feast, and to her say, "The love I bear you ne'er will know decay.

3 "Poor we may be; [drinks] and viands fine My humble means will not afford. But what we have, we'll taste and not repine; From us will come no grumbling word. And though to you no virtue I can add, Yet we will sing and dance, in spirit glad.

4 "I oft ascend that lofty ridge with toil, And hew large branches from the oaks; Then of their leafy glory them I spoil, And faggots form with vigorous strokes. Returning tired, your matchless grace I see, And my whole soul dissolves in ecstasy.

5 "To the high hills I looked, and urged each steed; The great road next was smooth and plain. Up hill, o'er dale, I never slackened speed; Like lute-string sounded every rein. I knew, my journey ended, I should come To you, sweet bride, the comfort of my home."

V. The Ts'ing ying

1 Like the blue flies buzzing round, And on the fences lighting, Are the sons of slander found, Who never cease their biting. O thou happy, courteous king, To the winds their slanders fling.

2 Buzzing round the blue flies hear, About the jujubes flocking! So the slanderers appear, Whose calumnies are shocking. By no law or order bound, All the kingdom they confound.

3 How they buzz, those odious flies, Upon the hazels clust'ring! And as odious are the lies Of those slanderers blust'ring. Hatred stirred between us two Shows the evil they can do.

VI. The Pin che tsoo yen

1 When to the mats the guests draw near, Good order they observe. Some moving to the left appear, While to the right some swerve. In rows the dishes stand arrayed;— Of wood and bamboo featly made. Sauces and kernels in them shine; And tempered well the [drinks] fine:— The guests with reverence taste. Now are the drums and bells set up; And round the circle goes the cup, Without unseemly jest. The royal target then they rear, And bows and arrows soon appear, Made ready for the game. On different sides the archers stand; And one, his weapons in his hand, Calls out another's name, "Now shoot," he says, "and show your skill." The other answers, "Shoot I will, And hit the mark;—and when you miss, Give you the penal cup to kiss." The drums loud sound, the organ swells; Their flutes the dancers wave. The other instruments and bells Join in the concert grave. Thus with our music blends the dance, The solemn service to enhance, Which [to GOD] is paid. When rites, the greatest and the least, Have been performed to grace the feast, Then to our king 'tis said, "Blessings on you [GOD will bestow]." With joy his sons and grandsons glow; They feel inspired to show their care, And reverently themselves to bear.

2 The guests then come, in order led By him who is their chief and head. With those who [remember] the dead They drink in reverent style. Attendants wait their cups to fill, But order rules 'midst their good will. Our cups [of lawful drink] are only drunk to cheer; Our temple services are clear From all excesses vile.

3 When to the mats the guests approach, Mild harmony holds rule. These dare not upon those encroach, And no one plays the fool. So long as in due bounds they keep, Discreetly they behave; But when those bounds they overleap, Then where are they,—so grave? They leave the mats, and prance about; They caper round and round, Their caution all is put to rout; Their wits fall to the ground. Anon as still more drunk they grow, On rudeness they are set. The cups their reason overthrow, And they themselves forget.

4 Yes, when the guests have drunk too much, They shout aloud and brawl. The dishes get no gentle touch; Disorder fills the hall. They dance about, now fast, now slow, Can hardly keep their feet. What fools they are they do not know; No one resumes his seat. Each cap, awry, will hardly stay Upon the giddy head; But they keep on in madness' way, And no exposure dread. If, when their wits began to reel, They left the room at once, Both host and guests would happier feel, Nor know the sad mischance. But holding on, themselves they harm. The drinking feast is good Only when guests their wills can arm Against misconduct rude.

5 Whene'er a drinking feast is set, Some sober keep, some drunk will get. One is appointed to preside, With an assistant by his side, Record to make, as they decide, Who praise deserve, who blame. But sots there are, in vice quite sunk, Who, seeing some will not get drunk, Say, "We for you feel shame." These, if they could get in a word, Might counsel to the rest afford. To fright them from their wild excess, Sternly they might them thus address:— "From such improper speech refrain; Not called to speak, your tongues restrain. You're drunk; if but a word you say, We'll send you out this very day, To find a thing which nature scorns,— A ram full grown, yet wanting horns. Drink but three cups, your memory's gone; How can you drinking still go on?"

VII. The Yu ts'aow

1 Fishes there among the pondweed lie; From the bank their large heads we espy;— Fishes could not happier be. Here in Haou resides our lord, the king; To him joy his festive pleasures bring. Happy and at ease is he.

2 Fishes there among the pondweed glide; From the bank their long tails are descried;— Fishes could not happier be. Here in Haou resides the king, our lord; Festive pleasures joy to him afford. Happy and at ease is he.

3 Fishes there among the pondweed live, Shelter to them where the rushes give;— Fishes could not happier be. Here in Haou the king, our lord, resides; Safe and tranquil ever here he bides, Happy and at ease is he.

VIII. The Ts'ae shuh

1 They pull the beans all o'er the ground, To place in baskets square, and round. So reap they what the fields produce, For present and for future use. When now themselves the princes show, No stores have I, gifts to bestow, Befitting their great worth. Yet a state-carriage and its team Will well a feudal prince beseem;— Let such be all brought forth. And from the chambers let them bring The robes that princes wear. From duke to baron, I, the king, On them will these confer.

2 The water bubbles from the spring, And round it grows the cress. So when the princes see the king, Their coming they express In various ways. Now here I see Their flags, with dragon blazonry, All waving in the wind. The gentle tinkling of their bells Comes to my ear, and surely tells They in their chariots, grandly drawn By the four steeds of mighty brawn, Cannot be far behind.

3 The king soon gets a nearer view. The covers red he sees Upon their knees, of brilliant hue, And buskins 'neath the knees. A grave demeanour all display; The [Servant] of Heaven [GOD] approves. What to such princes can he say, Whose presence rapture moves? In admiration and delight, No grace can he withhold. To some he grants new honours bright, To some confirms the old.

4 The oaks their branches wide extend, With leaves thick covered o'er, Which thus the roots and trunk defend, And make them thrive the more. So do these princes service do, Throughout the land, while they pursue The charges to them given. The various regions well they guard, Nor think they any labour hard, To aid the [Servant] of Heaven. All blessings on their heads collect. And now to court they've brought Their ministers who nought neglect, Strong both in act and thought.

5 The boat is by the rope held fast, Lest it should float away; So round the princes there is cast The king's protective stay. He looks on them with joy intense; He scans their merits to dispense His favours and rewards. He makes their happiness his charge; Their territories to enlarge, As duty he regards. To them it is a pleasure rare, A happy, joyous time, When from their States they here repair, To see his court sublime.

IX. The Keuh kung

1 Whene'er we strongly bend a bow, Both string and ends we near us bring; And when we let the tension go, From us with quick recoil they spring. So when we show affection deep, Our kith and kin to us we draw; But when from them aloof we keep, They shrink from us by nature's law.

2 When you, O king, to kin are cold, Such coldness rules throughout the land. You for their teacher all men hold; To learn your ways needs no command.

3 Brethren whose virtue stands the test, By bad example still unchanged, Their generous feelings manifest, Nor grow among themselves estranged. But if their virtue weakly fails The evil influence to withstand, Then selfishness o'er love prevails, And troubles rise on every hand.

4 When men in disputations fine To hear their consciences refuse, Then 'gainst each other they repine, And each maintains his special views. If one a place of rank obtain, And scorn humility to show, The others view him with disdain, And, wrangling, all to ruin go.

5 A colt the old horse deems himself, And vainly hastens to the race; So thinks the mean man, bent on pelf, Himself fit for the highest place. Stuffed to the full, he still shall feed, Nor own that he has had enough. He drinks, and with insatiate greed, Knows not the time for leaving off.

6 The monkeys by their nature know The way to climb a tree, untaught. We need no mud on him to throw, Whom lying in the mud we've caught. The nature of all meaner men Leads them to follow and obey. Nor right, nor wrong the millions ken, But imitate the sovereign's way.

7 The snow falls fast, and all the ground Hides with its masses, white and clear; But when the sunbeams play around, It soon will melt and disappear. This fact, O king, you don't perceive; Those men who calumnies diffuse, Not heeding, to themselves you leave, And your indulgence they abuse.

8 Yes, though the snow lie drifted deep, Away before the heat 'twill flow. I for the king's neglect must weep;-- Like Man or Maou those men will grow.

X. The Yuh léw

1 The willow trees luxuriant grow. Who is not glad himself to throw Beneath their shade to rest? And so to our great sovereign's court The feudal lords should oft resort, And feel supremely blessed. But he whom we all deemed [a sage] Is so uncertain in his nod, That they his presence shun. Near him alone I dare not go. Were I at court myself to show, And of his troubles take the charge, His calls on me would be so large, That I should be undone.

2 Luxuriant grow the willow trees; Beneath their shade one often sees Large crowds at ease reclined. So should the king his grace extend, And to his court the princes bend Their steps with willing mind. But he, whom as [a sage] we viewed, Is so uncertain in his mood, That they dare not appear. For me I should but court distress, If I alone were to address Myself to take his cares in hand; He would so much of me demand, I'd live in constant fear.

3 The birds now on the trees alight, Then spread their wings in sudden flight, And soar aloft to heaven; So does the king his purpose change, From one thing to another range, As by his fancies driven. His heart we cannot fathom well, Nor can we any moment tell To what he will proceed. The task why should I undertake, And vainly the endeavour make, His grievous troubles to redress? It would only cause me sore distress, And to my misery lead.

Book Viii. The Decade Of Too Jin Sze.

I. The Too jin sze

1 In the old capital they stood, With yellow fox-furs plain, Their manners all correct and good, Speech free from vulgar stain. Could we go back to Chow's old days, All would look up to them with praise.

2 In the old capital they wore Tae hats and black caps small; And ladies, who famed surnames bore, Their own thick hair let fall. Such simple ways are seen no more, And the changed manners I deplore.

3 Ear-stoppers, made of seu-stones fine, In the old days were worn. Each lady of a noble line A Yin or Keih seemed born. Such officers and ladies now I see not, and my sorrows grow.

4 With graceful sweep their girdles fell, Then in the days of old. The ladies' side-hair, with a swell, Like scorpion's tail, rose bold. Such, if I saw them in these days, I'd follow with admiring gaze.

5 So hung their girdles, not for show; To their own length 'twas due. 'Twas not by art the hair curled so; By nature so it grew. I seek such manners now in vain, And pine for them with longing pain.

II. The Ts'ae luk

1 So full am I of anxious thought, Though all the morn king-grass I've sought, To fill my arms I fail. Like wisp all-tangled is my hair! To wash it let me home repair. My lord soon may I hail!

2 Though 'mong the indigo I've wrought The morning long, through anxious thought, My skirt's filled but in part. Within five days he was to appear. The sixth has come, and he's not here, Oh! how this racks my heart!

3 When here we dwelt in union sweet, If the hunt called his eager feet, His bow I cased for him. Or if to fish he went away, And would be absent all the day, His line I put in trim.

4 What in his angling did he catch? Well worth the time it was to watch How bream and tench he took. Men thronged upon the banks and gazed; At bream and tench they looked amazed, The triumphs of his hook.

III. The Shoo méaou

1 As the young millet, by the genial rain Enriched, shoots up luxuriant and tall, So, when we southward marched with toil and pain, The earl of Shaou cheered and inspired us all.

2 We pushed our barrows, and our burdens bore; We drove our waggons, and our oxen led. "The work once done, our labour there is o'er, And home we travel," to ourselves we said.

3 Close kept our footmen round the chariot track; Our eager host in close battalions sped. "When once our work is done, then we go back, Our labour over," to themselves they said.

4 Hard was the work we had at Seay to do, But Shaou's great earl the city soon upreared. The host its service gave with ardour true;-- Such power in all the earl's commands appeared!

5 We did on plains and low lands what was meet; We cleared the springs and streams, the land to drain, The earl of Shaou announced his work complete, And the king's heart reposed, at rest again.

IV. The Seih sang

1 Where lies the ground both wet and low, The mulberry trees in beauty grow;-- 'Tis sweet to see their clust'ring leaves. Such pleasure in my bosom heaves, When I the princely men descry;-- To tell the joy 'twere vain to try.

2 Where lies the ground both wet and low, The mulberry trees in beauty grow;-- 'Tis sweet to see their glossy leaves. Such pleasure in my bosom heaves, When I the princely men behold;-- Then does my heart its joy unfold.

3 Where lies the ground both wet and low, The mulberry trees in beauty grow;-- 'Tis sweet to see their dark green leaves. Such pleasure in my bosom heaves, When lights upon those men my eye;-- At their grand fame my heart throbs high.

4 I cherish those men in my heart.-- Might not my words my love impart? No;--if the words were once but spoken, The charm of love might then be broken. The men shall dwell within my heart, Nor thence with lapse of time depart.

V. The Pih hwa

1 The fibres of the white-flowered rush Are with the white grass bound. So do the two together go, In closest union found. And thus should man and wife abide, The twain combined in one; But this bad man sends me away, And bids me dwell alone.

2 Both rush and grass from the bright clouds The genial dew partake. Kind and impartial, nature's [GOD's] laws No odious difference make. But [fortune] appears unkind; Events are often hard. This man, to principle untrue, Denies me his regard.

3 Northward the pools their waters send, To flood each paddy field; So get the fields the sap they need, Their store of rice to yield. But that great man no deed of grace Deigns to bestow on me. My songs are sighs. At thought of him My heart aches wearily.

4 The mulberry branches they collect, And use their food to cook. But I must use a furnace small, That pot nor pan will brook. So me that great man badly treats, Nor uses as his wife, Degrades me from my proper place, And fills with grief my life.

5 The bells and drums inside the court Men stand without and hear; So should the feelings in my breast, To him distinct appear. All-sorrowful, I think of him, Longing to move his love; But he vouchsafes no kind response; His thoughts far from me rove.

6 The marabou stands on the dam, And to repletion feeds; The crane deep in the forest cries, Nor finds the food it needs. So in my room the concubine By the great man is placed; While I with cruel banishment Am cast out and disgraced.

7 The yellow ducks sit on the dam, With left wing gathered low; So on each other do they lean, And their attachment show. And love should thus the man and wife In closest concord bind; But that man turns away from me, And shows a fickle mind.

8 When one stands on a slab of stone, No higher than the ground, Nothing is added to his height;-- Low with the stone he's found. So does the favourite's mean estate Render that great man mean, While I by him, to distance sent, Am pierced with sorrow keen.

VI. The Méen man

1 Twitters fast the oriole, Where yonder bends the mound. The happy little creature Its resting place has found. So have not I. The journey's length And weary toil o'ertask my strength. Give me to eat; give me to drink; And teach my mind the way to think. Then bid a baggage cart prepare Along the route myself to bear.

2 Twitters fast the oriole, Where shows its edge the mound: The happy little creature Its resting place has found. So have not I. I dare not shrink From the long way, but trembling think, Unable to hold on, I'll sink. Give me to drink; and give me food; And teach my mind the thing that's good. Then bid a baggage cart prepare Along the route myself to bear.

3 Twitters fast the oriole, Where spreads its side the mound. The happy little creature Its resting place has found. So have not I. I dare not shrink From the long way, but trembling think, Before we reach the end, I'll sink. Give me to drink; to food invite; And tell my mind the thing that's right. Then bid a baggage cart prepare Along the route myself to bear.

VII. The Hoo yeh

1 A few gourd leaves that waved about Cut down and boiled;--the feast how spare! But the good host his [drink] takes, Pours out a cup, and proves them rare.

2 A single rabbit on the mat, Or baked, or roast:--how small the feast! But the good host his [drink] takes, And fills the cup of every guest.

3 A single rabbit on the mat, Roasted or broiled:--how poor the meal! But the guests from the [drink] vase Fill their host's cup, and drink his weal.