THE SHE KING; OR, THE BOOK OF ANCIENT POETRY

116 THE BOOK OF POBTET. [PAET I. BE VI. IX.] THE BOOK OF POETKY. 117
3 Into the trap the pheasant flies,
Which the hare shuns with cautious eyes.
So those who duty promptly do
Find cause their loyal zeal to rue,
While one whose ends are base and mean
Contrives from harm himself to screen.
When I was in my youthful prime,
No toilsome tasks distressed the time ;
But in these latter days of life,
Our miseries are waxen rife:—
0 for the sleep unbroke by sound of strife !
VII.
The Koh luy; allusive. A WANDERER FEOM CHOW, SEPARATED
FROM HIS KIN, MOURNS OVER HIS LOT.
1 Around the creepers thickly spread,
On the borders of the Ho.
My native soil no more I tread;
Into exile forth I go.
Far removed from kindred all,
Father I a stranger call.
Though so called, he does not brook
Kindly upon me to look.
2 Around the creepers thickly spread,
On the green banks of the Ho.
My native soil no more I tread;
Into exile forth I go.
Far removed from kindred all,
Mother I a stranger call.
Though so called, she does not deign
Me as child to entertain.
3 Around the creepers thickly spread,
On the bank-lips of the Ho.
My native soil no more I tread;
Into exile forth I go.
Far from all who bear my name,
Elder brother I would claim
In a stranger, but he spurns
Such a claim, and from me turns.
VIII.
The Ts'ae koh; narrative. A LADY LONGS FOB THE SOCIETY OF
THE OBJECT OF HER AFFECTION.
1 He's there, the dolichos among !
Only one day from sight away,—
To me it seems as three months long!
2 He's there, among the southernwood!
Only one day from sight away,—
It seems three seasons' solitude !
3 Among the mugwort he appears !
Only one day from sight away,—
To me it seems as three full years !
IX.
The Ta lien; narrative. THE INFLUENCE or A SEVEEE AND VIRTU
OUS MAGISTRATE IN EEPRESSING LICENTIOUSNESS.
1 He rolls along in carriage grand,
His robes are bright with green,—
His robes of rank, as on the bank
The tender sedge is seen.
Thinking I always am of thee,
Thinking with fond desire ;
But dreading his severity,
I must repress the fire.
2 With slow and heavy sound his car,—
His car of state, moves on.
O'er his dress spread, the colours red
Shine like carnation-stone.
Thinking I always am of thee ;
The fondest thoughts have I.
The fear of him alone holds me,
Or to thine arms I'd fly.
3 Our fate may be, while still alive,
Always apart to dwell;
But when we're dead, we shall be laid
In the same earthen cell.