“If I had not Yang Kuei-fei, What were all this lovely scene? With her, walking thus by me,— This is heaven, and she its queen.” On the sward beneath their feet, Flowers of every hue were springing; Bright plumed birds with voices sweet Their passage here and there were winging. Sheltered here from mid-day heat, She taught to them the art of singing.[18] Now is heard from every tree Leafy voices, softly uttering Whispers, which sound mysteriously— Like wings of angels, gently fluttering. “If I had not Yang Kuei-fei, What were all my empire worth? With her, sitting thus by me,— This is paradise on earth.” Streaks of light through foliage glancing— Mixing, blending, interlacing— Now retreating—now advancing— Sunbeams after shadows racing, Flinging on the sward a net-work Of embroidered golden fret-work— Quaintly beautifully grotesque, As of _flickering_ arabesque Sculpt’d from sunbeams, light and shade, Its ground the green enameled glade. “If I had not Yang Kuei-fei, What were all this lovely scene? With her, sitting thus by me,— This is heaven, and she its queen.” THE DEATH OF YANG KUEI-FEI In silence unbroken, They sat side by side; Not a word had been spoken:— They both of them tried The dread that was o’er them Of what lay before them In their bosoms to hide. What is that? In the distance a murmur is heard, Is’t the wail of the night wind—the surge of the sea? As nearer it floats it takes form in a word— And that word, Oh, God! is the name Yang Kuei-fei! They listen, but speak not—though _both_ know full well Those murmuring sounds are for _one_ a death-knell. Nearer,—still nearer Those hoarse murmurs came: Now they sound clearer, They shout out a name. ’Tis Yang-fei’s name they call! Break her accursed thrall! Too long we have borne it— This night, we have sworn it— Her life pays for all! Where is she,—your minion,—frail Yang Kuei-fei? Drag her forth—the vile traitress! our daggers would see If in her fair body the blood flows more pure Than in those of your subjects who have had to endure Wrongs, which her arts have heaped on them for years:[19] Whose bread has been moistened by blood, sweat and tears! Whose sons have been slaughtered—whose daughters defiled! Whose homes have been pillaged—whose fields made a wild! ’Tis she is the cause of rebellion and strife,[20] We fight not your foes till we’ve taken her life! “Nought but the blood Of Yang Kuei-fei Can stem this flood Of anarchy!”