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And the brown flesh blued where the bay'net kissed, As the steel shot back with a wrench and a twist,. But Fate had ordained that the Boh should start On a lone-hand raid of the rearmost cart,. They were twenty stone, as the tally-man knows, On the broad of the chest of this best of Bohs.
Christina Grimmie - Wikipedia
Oh, short was the struggle—severe was the shock— He dropped like a bullock—he lay like a block;. And the Babu above him, convulsed with fear, Heard the labouring life-breath hissed out in his ear.
Turn now to Simoorie where, lapped in his ease, The Captain is petting the Bride on his knees,. Forgotten, forgotten the sweat of the shambles Where the hill-daisy blooms and the grey monkey gambols,. Up the hill to Simoorie—most patient of drudges— The bags on his shoulder, the mail-runner trudges. One hundred and ten Rupees to collect on delivery. Open-eyed, open-mouthed, on the napery's snow, With a crash and a thud, rolled—the Head of the Boh!
Price of Blood "Much cheap at one hundred, and children want food. Bullock Train,. As a horse reaches up to the manger above, As the waiting ear yearns for the whisper of love,. And e'en as he looked on the Thing where It lay 'Twixt the winking new spoons and the napkins' array. The freed mind fled back to the long-ago days— The hand-to-hand scuffle—the smoke and the blaze—.
The forced march at night and the quick rush at dawn— The banjo at twilight, the burial ere morn—. The stench of the marshes—the raw, piercing smell When the overhand stabbing-cut silenced the yell—.
The oaths of his Irish that surged when they stood Where the black crosses hung o'er the Kuttamow flood. Back, back, through the springs to the chill of the year, When he hunted the Boh from Maloon to Tsaleer. As the shape of a corpse dimmers up through deep water, In his eye lit the passionless passion of slaughter,. And men who had fought with O'Neil for the life Had gazed on his face with less dread than his wife. I am Liu-ying-fang, the wife of Hsueh, but he has now been gone eighteen years as a soldier to the capital, and I have never received any tidings of him.
I and my son live in this old kiln and have not where- with to keep us. The weather is delightfully pleasant to-day, so bid my son go forth and spear a few fish or shoot a goose at 'Ho-wan. Ting-shan, my son, where are you?
Retires to the side. My father has gone to Chang- An ; he has now been away these eighteen years. This old kiln is my birthplace, and my name is Ting-shan. To his mother My dear mother, good morning kneeling. My child, never mind ceremony, but sit down. I will sit, since you bid me. See, to-day the weather is clear and fine. Go, my son, to 'Ho-wan, and spear some fish or shoot a goose that we may satisfy our hunger.
The Ballad of Jade Grim
My son, are you willing to go? Oh, yes! I will go with the utmost willingness. Since you are willing to go, first sit down by the old kiln and listen to what I have to tell you. Be seated, my son, near this ruined kiln door, And patiently listen to what I now say ; Your father, alas, when we wed was so poor, That we had not wherewith to keep hunger away.
J6n KueVs Return. His own son, alas, never gladdened his sight. Since he first left his home 'tis now eighteen long years, How sadly and slowly those weary years passed : Each day saw me here half blinded with tears, Watching, hoping, and praying he might come at last My son, you are now my sole solace and pride, In all this wide world who have I but you? I droop if one hour you're away from my side : Should you leave me like him, oh, what should I do On you, too, the time-honoured duty now falls The mother who reared you in comfort to keep ; To tend to my grave when I leave these four walls, For the narrower home where our ancestors sleep.
Mother dear, pray where is the need, To me these instructions to give? You know very wellgl shall heed Every word you have said while I live. Ill quickly return, never fear, And when I come back you shall see Geese and carp — perhaps a fat deer — But now, mother, listen to me. Jin Kuei's Return. That in time I might hope to attain To rank, honour, riches and fame ; That my deeds for me one day should gain An immortal — an undying name.
There — give me my coat, mother dear, My hat too and gaiters I'll don, t My quiver, my bow, and my spear — Good bye, mother— Now for 'Ho- wan. Exit, J?. While singing the last verse the lad has been putting on his coat, hat, Grc. Dear lad! I don't know how it is, but whenever he quits my sight, I always feel as if I had lost him — as if he had gone for ever, or that something must happen to him ; my mind is racked with a thousand fears for his safety, and I am wretched till he returns.
Goes into hovel. Scene closes. Save his young life From treacherous dart, — From murderous knife, — From all. The river is near, With its water so clear, Noiselessly wending its way to the west ; My pupil Ting-shan Must pass by anon, So sit me awhile on its margin and rest.
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C Enter Ting-shan, Z. Boy sings. Jen Kuets Return. In the world there are thousands of lads poor as me, But, excepting myself, never once did I see A fatherless lad. I know not my father, he knows not his son! I wear a straw hat and a blue gaberdine, — Though made of coarse stuff it is spotless and clean ; I grasp with my left hand my bow — i;eady strung, Which over my shoulder is carelessly slung.
Here they come, — the bright sky is obscured by wild geese, How they cackle, — the cackle of one shall soon cease : Quick ere they pass by — ah, that arrow went true, — He's struck, — now another, and down topple two. G 82 The Jade Chap let.