They flit about, the yellow birds, And rest upon the jujubes find. Who buried were in duke Muh's grave, Alive to awful death consigned? 'Mong brothers three, who met that fate, 'Twas sad the first, Yen-seih to see. He stood alone; a hundred men Could show no other such as he. When to the yawning grave he came, Terror unnerved and shook his frame. Why thus destroy our noblest men, To thee we cry, O azure Heaven! To save Yen-seih from death, we would A hundred lives have freely given. They flit about, the yellow birds, And on the mulberry-trees rest find. Who buried were in duke Muh's grave, Alive to awful death consigned? 'Mong brothers three, who met that fate, 'Twas sad the next, Chung-hang to see. When on him pressed a hundred men, A match for all of them was he. When to the yawning grave he came, Terror unnerved and shook his frame. Why thus destroy our noblest men, To thee we cry, O azure Heaven! To save Chung-hang from death, we would A hundred lives have freely given. They flit about, the yellow birds, And rest upon the thorn-trees find. Who buried were in duke Muh's grave, Alive to awful death consigned? 'Mong brothers three, who met that fate, 'Twas sad the third, K'ëen-foo, to see. A hundred men in desperate fight Successfully withstand could he. When to the yawning grave he came, Terror unnerved and shook his frame. Why thus destroy our noblest men, To thee we cry, O azure Heaven! To save K'ëen-foo from death, we would A hundred lives have freely given. [NOTE.--The incident related in this poem occurred in the year B.C. 620, when the duke of Muh died after playing an important part in the affairs of Northwest China. Muh required the three officers here celebrated, to be buried with him, and according to the "Historical Records" this barbarous practice began with duke Ching, Muh's predecessor. In all, 170 individuals were buried with Muh. The death of the last distinguished man of the Ts'in dynasty, the Emperor I, was subsequently celebrated by the entombment with him of all the inmates of his harem.] ~In Praise of a Ruler of Ts'in~ What trees grow on the Chung-nan hill? The white fir and the plum. In fur of fox, 'neath 'broidered robe, Thither our prince is come. His face glows with vermilion hue. O may he prove a ruler true! What find we on the Chung-nan hill? Deep nook and open glade. Our prince shows there the double _Ke_ On lower robe displayed. His pendant holds each tinkling gem, Long life be his, and deathless fame! ~The Generous Nephew~ I escorted my uncle to Tsin, Till the Wei we crossed on the way. Then I gave as I left For his carriage a gift Four steeds, and each steed was a bay.