The round imperial agate's not more sheen;
Ever magnanimous and constant found,
On glory's car they sit with placid mien,
And smile benign where jocund sports abound.




THE MOUNTAIN-CHASE.


From the Mandchou or Chinese Tartar.
(An extract from the "Description of Moukden" by the Emperor Kian Loung.)

Autumn has fled and winter left our bounds;
Now for the chase amongst the mountain grounds,
Our troops their implements and arms prepare.
Like colour'd rainbow see our banners glare;
While paler far and like the waning bow,
Rustle the standards in the winds that blow;
Piercing the mists, above our heads that lower,
Aloft behold our stately Toron {21} tower,
Flapping the skies with its embroider'd rim.
Away we journey, hale in mind and limb;
Our cars of state are creaking in the rear,
Whilst in the front the active guides appear.

And now our children mount their colts of speed,
Their sculptur'd cars full little here they need;
From the right side they take the arrow keen,