With sounds of happiness the deer Browse on the celery of the meads. A nobler feast is furnished here, With guests renowned for noble deeds. The lutes are struck; the organ blows, Till all its tongues in movement heave. Each basket loaded stands, and shows The precious gifts the guests receive. They love me and my mind will teach, How duty's highest aim to reach. With sounds of happiness the deer The southern-wood crop in the meads, What noble guests surround me here, Distinguished for their worthy deeds! From them my people learn to fly Whate'er is mean; to chiefs they give A model and a pattern high;-- They show the life they ought to live. Then fill their cups with spirits rare, Till each the banquet's joy shall share. With sounds of happiness the deer The salsola crop in the fields. What noble guests surround me here! Each lute for them its music yields. Sound, sound the lutes, or great or small, The joy harmonious to prolong;-- And with my spirits rich crown all The cups to cheer the festive throng. Let each retire with gladdened heart, In his own sphere to play his part. A FESTAL ODE COMPLIMENTING AN OFFICER On dashed my four steeds, without halt, without stay, Though toilsome and winding from Chow was the way. I wished to return--but the monarch's command Forbade that his business be done with slack hand; And my heart was with sadness oppressed. On dashed my four steeds; I ne'er slackened the reins. They snorted and panted--all white, with black manes. I wished to return, but our sovereign's command Forbade that his business be done with slack hand;-- And I dared not to pause or to rest. Unresting the Filial doves speed in their flight, Ascending, then sweeping swift down from the height, Now grouped on the oaks. The king's high command Forbade that his business be done with slack hand;-- And my father I left, sore distressed. Unresting the Filial doves speed in their flight, Now fanning the air and anon they alight On the medlars thick grouped. But our monarch's command Forbade that his business be done with slack hand;-- Of my mother I thought with sad breast. My four steeds I harnessed, all white and black-maned, Which straight on their way, fleet and emulous strained. I wished to return; and now venture in song The wish to express, and announce how I long For my mother my care to attest. [NOTE.--Both Maou and Choo agree that this ode was composed in honor of the officer who narrates the story in it, although they say it was not written by the officer himself, but was put into his mouth, as it were, to express the sympathy of his entertainer with him, and the appreciation of his devotion to duty.] THE VALUE OF FRIENDSHIP