of the “Rainbow Skirt and Feather Jacket.”_ FLIGHT.--_Clouds of dust envelop the lofty gates of the capital. A thousand war-chariots and ten thousand horses move towards the south-west. Feathers and jewels among the throng, onwards and then a halt. A hundred ~li~ beyond the western gate, leaving behind them the city walls, The soldiers refuse to advance; nothing remains to be done Until she of the moth-eyebrows perishes in sight of all. On the ground lie gold ornaments with no one to pick them up, Kingfisher wings, golden birds, and hairpins of costly jade. The monarch covers his face, powerless to save; And as he turns to look back, tears and blood flow mingled together._ EXILE.--_Across vast stretches of yellow sand with whistling winds, Across cloud-capped mountain-tops they make their way. Few indeed are the travellers who reach the heights of Mount Omi; The bright gleam of the standards grows fainter day by day. Dark the Ssŭch‘uan waters, dark the Ssŭch‘uan hills; Daily and nightly his Majesty is consumed by bitter grief. Travelling along, the very brightness of the moon saddens his heart, And the sound of a bell through the evening rain severs his viscera in twain._ RETURN.--_Time passes, days go by, and once again he is there at the well-known spot, And there he lingers on, unable to tear himself wholly away. But from the clods of earth at the foot of the Ma-wei hill, No sign of her lovely face appears, only the place of death. The eyes of sovereign and minister meet, and robes are wet with tears, Eastward they depart and hurry on to the capital at full speed._