HSÜ AN-CHÊN, of the ninth century, is entitled to a place among the T‘ang poets, if only for the following piece:-- “_When the Bear athwart was lying, And the night was just on dying, And the moon was all but gone, How my thoughts did ramble on!_ “_Then a sound of music breaks From a lute that some one wakes, And I know that it is she, The sweet maid next door to me._ “_And as the strains steal o’er me Her moth-eyebrows rise before me, And I feel a gentle thrill That her fingers must be chill._ “_But doors and locks between us So effectually screen us That I hasten from the street And in dreamland pray to meet._” The following lines by TU CH’IN-NIANG, a poetess of the ninth century, are included in a collection of 300 gems of the T‘ang dynasty:-- “_I would not have thee grudge those robes which gleam in rich array, But I would have thee grudge the hours of youth which glide away. Go, pluck the blooming flower betimes, lest when thou com’st again Alas! upon the withered stem no blooming flowers remain!_” [Sidenote: SSŬ-K‘UNG T‘U] It is time perhaps to bring to a close the long list, which might be almost indefinitely lengthened. SSŬ-K‘UNG T‘U (A.D. 834-908) was a secretary in the Board of Rites, but he threw up his post and became a hermit. Returning to Court in 905, he accidentally dropped part of his official insignia at an audience,--an unpardonable breach of Court etiquette,--and was allowed to retire once more to the hills, where he ultimately starved himself to death through grief at the murder of the youthful Emperor. He is commonly known as the Last of the T‘angs; his poetry, which is excessively difficult to understand, ranking correspondingly high in the estimation of Chinese critics. The following philosophical poem, consisting of twenty-four apparently unconnected stanzas, is admirably adapted to exhibit the form under which pure Taoism commends itself to the mind of a cultivated scholar:-- i.--ENERGY--ABSOLUTE. “_Expenditure of force leads to outward decay, Spiritual existence means inward fulness. Let us revert to Nothing and enter the Absolute, Hoarding up strength for Energy. Freighted with eternal principles, Athwart the mighty void, Where cloud-masses darken, And the wind blows ceaseless around, Beyond the range of conceptions, Let us gain the Centre, And there hold fast without violence, Fed from an inexhaustible supply._” ii.--TRANQUIL REPOSE. “_It dwells in quietude, speechless, Imperceptible in the cosmos, Watered by the eternal harmonies, Soaring with the lonely crane. It is like a gentle breeze in spring, Softly bellying the flowing robe; It is like the note of the bamboo flute, Whose sweetness we would fain make our own. Meeting by chance, it seems easy of access, Seeking, we find it hard to secure. Ever shifting in semblance, It shifts from the grasp and is gone._”