Of the magpie's nest
Is the dove possessed.
This bride goes to her new home to live;
And escort a hundred chariots give.
The nest magpie wove
Now filled by the dove.
This bride now takes to her home her way;
And these numerous cars her state display.
~The Industry and Reverence of a Prince's Wife~
Around the pools, the islets o'er,
Fast she plucks white Southern-wood,
To help the sacrificial store;
And for our prince does service good.
Where streams among the valleys shine,
Of Southern-woods she plucks the white;
And brings it to the sacred shrine,
To aid our prince in solemn rite.
In head-dress high, most reverent, she
The temple seeks at early dawn.
The service o'er, the head-dress see
To her own chamber slow withdrawn.
~The Wife of Some Great Officer Bewails His Absence~
Shrill chirp the insects in the grass;
All about the hoppers spring.
While I my husband do not see,
Sorrow must my bosom wring.
O to meet him!
O to greet him!
Then my heart would rest and sing.
Ascending high that Southern hill,
Turtle ferns I strove to get.
While I my husband do not see,
Sorrow must my heart beset.
O to meet him!
O to greet him!
Then my heart would cease to fret.
Ascending high that Southern hill,
Spinous ferns I sought to find.
While I my husband do not see,
Rankles sorrow in my mind.
O to meet him!
O to greet him!
In my heart would peace be shrined.