The following is an early specimen, by an anonymous writer, of the four-line poem:-- “_The bright moon shining overhead, The stream beneath the breeze’s touch, Are pure and perfect joys indeed,-- But few are they who think them such._” Turning now to the almost endless list of poets from which but a scanty selection can be made, we may begin with WANG PO (A.D. 648-676), a precocious boy who wrote verses when he was six. He took his degree at sixteen, and was employed in the Historical Department, but was dismissed for satirising the cock-fighting propensities of the Imperial princes. He filled up his leisure by composing many beautiful poems. He never meditated on these beforehand, but after having prepared a quantity of ink ready for use, he would drink himself tipsy and lie down with his face covered up. On waking he would seize his pen and write off verses, not a word in which needed to be changed; whence he acquired the sobriquet of Belly-Draft, meaning that his drafts, or rough copies, were all prepared inside. And he received so many presents of valuable silks for writing these odes, that it was said “he spun with his mind.” These lines are from his pen:-- “_Near these islands a palace was built by a prince, But its music and song have departed long since; The hill-mists of morning sweep down on the halls, At night the red curtains lie furled on the walls. The clouds o’er the water their shadows still cast, Things change like the stars: how few autumns have passed And yet where is that prince? where is he?--No reply, Save the plash of the stream rolling ceaselessly by._” [Sidenote: CH’ÊN TZŬ-ANG] A still more famous contemporary of his was CH’ÊN TZŬ-ANG (A.D. 656-698), who adopted somewhat sensational means of bringing himself to the notice of the public. He purchased a very expensive guitar which had been for a long time on sale, and then let it be known that on the following day he would perform upon it in public. This attracted a large crowd; but when Ch‘ên arrived he informed his auditors that he had something in his pocket worth much more than the guitar. Thereupon he dashed the instrument into a thousand pieces, and forthwith began handing round copies of his own writings. Here is a sample, directed against the Buddhist worship of idols, the “Prophet” representing any divinely-inspired teacher of the Confucian school:-- “_On Self the Prophet never rests his eye, His to relieve the doom of humankind; No fairy palaces beyond the sky, Rewards to come, are present to his mind._ _And I have heard the faith by Buddha taught Lauded as pure and free from earthly taint; Why then these carved and graven idols, fraught With gold and silver, gems, and jade, and paint?_