Among the best of Chinese ballads, if regard be had to the character of the sentiment and metaphors, is one on Picking Tea, which the girls and women sing as they collect the leaves.
BALLAD OF THE TEA-PICKER.
I.
Where thousand hills the vale enclose, our little hut is there,
And on the sloping sides around the tea grows everywhere;
And I must rise at early dawn, as busy as can be,
To get my daily labor done, and pluck the leafy tea.
II.
At early dawn I seize my crate, and sighing, Oh, for rest!
Thro’ the thick mist I pass the door, with sloven hair half drest;