Silver or gold—they seemed as dust; ’tis but for virtue’s sake
His works are done. His skill divine I ever must adore,
Nor lose remembrance of his name till life’s last day is o’er.
Thus have I told, in these brief words, this learned doctor’s praise:
Well does his worth deserve that I should tablets to him raise.
LAMENT OF THE POETESS SU-HWUI.
In this facility of versification lies one of the reasons for the mediocrity of common Chinese poetry, but that does not prevent its power over the popular mind being very great. Men and women of all classes take great delight in recitation and singing, hearing street musicians or strolling play-actors; and these results, whatever we may judge by our standards, prove its power and suitableness to influence them. One or two additional specimens on different subjects may be quoted, inasmuch as they also illustrate some of the better shades of feeling and sentiment. A more finished piece of poetry is one written about A.D. 370, by Su-Hwui, whose husband was banished. Its talented authoress is said to have written more than five thousand lines, and among them a curious anagram of about eight hundred characters, which was so disposed that it would make sense equally well when read up or down, cross-wise, backward, or forward.[341] Nothing from her pen remains except this ode, interesting for its antiquity as well as sentiment.
ODE OF SU-HWUI.
When thou receiv’dst the king’s command to quiet the frontier,
Together to the bridge we went, striving our hearts to cheer—