THE odes of Thang were really the odes of Zin, the greatest of the fiefs of Kâu until the rise of Khin. King Khang, in B.C. 1107, invested his younger brother, called Shû-yü, with the territory where Yâo was supposed to have ruled anciently as the marquis of Thang, in the present department of Thâi-yüan, Shan-hsî, the fief retaining that ancient name. Subsequently the name of the state was changed to Zin, from the river Zin in the southern part of it.
ODE, 8, STANZA 1. THE PÂO YÜ.
THE MEN OF ZIN, CALLED OUT TO WARFARE BY THE KING'S ORDER, MOURN OVER THE CONSEQUENT SUFFERING OF THEIR PARENTS, AND LONG FOR THEIR RETURN TO THEIR ORDINARY AGRICULTURAL PURSUITS, MAKING THEIR APPEAL TO HEAVEN.
Sû-sû go the feathers of the wild geese, As
[1. In the 'Complete Digest' this oath is expanded in the following way:--'These words are from my heart. If you think that they are not sincere, there is (a Power) above, like the bright sun, observing me;--how should my words not be sincere?']
they settle on the bushy oaks[1]. The king's affairs must not be slackly discharged, And (so) we cannot plant our millets;--What will our parents have to rely on? O thou distant and azure Heaven [2]! When shall we be in our places again?
ODE 11. THE KO SHANG.
A WIFE MOURNS THE DEATH OF HER HUSBAND, REFUSING TO BE COMFORTED, AND DECLARES THAT SHE WILL CHERISH HIS MEMORY TILL HER OWN DEATH.
It is supposed that the husband whose death is bewailed in this piece had died in one of the military expeditions of which duke Hsien (B.C. 676-651) was fond. It may have been so, but there is nothing in the piece to make us think of duke Hsien. I give it a place in the volume, not because of the religious sentiment in it, but because of the absence of that sentiment, Where we might expect it. The lady shows the grand virtue of a Chinese widow, in that she will never marry again. And her grief would not be assuaged. The days would all seem long summer days, and the nights all long winter nights; so that a hundred long years would seem to drag their slow course, But there is not any hope expressed of a re-union with her husband in another state. The 'abode' and the 'chamber' of which she speaks are to be understood of his grave; and her thoughts do not appear to go beyond it.
The dolichos grows, covering the thorn trees; The convolvulus spreads all over the waste [3]. The