Smiling he looks, and bold
Speaks mockingly.
Scornful and lewd his words,
Haughty his smile.
Bound is my heart with cords
In sorrow's coil.
As cloud of dust wind-blown,
Just such is he.
Ready he seems to own,
And come to me.
But he comes not nor goes,
Stands in his pride.
Long, long, with painful throes,
Grieved I abide.
Strong blew the wind; the cloud
Hastened away.
Soon dark again, the shroud
Covers the day.
I wake, and sleep no more
Visits my eyes.
His course I sad deplore,
With heavy sighs.
Cloudy the sky, and dark;
The thunders roll.
Such outward signs well mark
My troubled soul.
I wake, and sleep no more
Comes to give rest.
His course I sad deplore,
In anguished breast.
[NOTE: Selections from Books IV., V., and VI.,
have been omitted.--EDITOR.]
BOOK VII
THE ODES OF CH'ING
~The People's Admiration for Duke Woo~
The black robes well your form befit;
When they are worn we'll make you new.
Now for your court! oh! there we'll sit,
And watch how you your duties do.
And when we to our homes repair,
We'll send to you our richest fare,
Such is the love to you we bear!
Those robes well with your virtue match;
When they are worn we'll make you new.
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