Although I do not go to you,
Why from all word do you refrain?
O you, with girdle strings of blue,
My thoughts to you forever roam!
Although I do not go to you,
Yet why to me should you not come?
How reckless you, how light and wild,
There by the tower upon the wall!
One day, from sight of you exiled,
As long as three long months I call.
[NOTE: Selections from Books IV., V., and VI., have been
omitted.--EDITOR.]
BOOK VIII
THE ODES OF TS'E
~A Wife Urging Her Husband to Action~
His lady to the marquis says,
"The cock has crowed; 'tis late.
Get up, my lord, and haste to court.
'Tis full; for you they wait."
She did not hear the cock's shrill sound,
Only the blueflies buzzing round.
Again she wakes him with the words,
"The east, my lord, is bright.
A crowded court your presence seeks;
Get up and hail the light."
'Twas not the dawning light which shone,
But that which by the moon was thrown.
He sleeping still, once more she says,
"The flies are buzzing loud.
To lie and dream here by your side
Were pleasant, but the crowd
Of officers will soon retire;
Draw not on you and me their ire!"
~The Folly of Useless Effort~
The weeds will but the ranker grow,
If fields too large you seek to till.
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