to which all poets and philosophers to come will turn with wistful eyes.
These early ballads of the Chinese differ in feeling from almost all
the ballad literature of the world. They are ballads of peace,
while those of other nations are so often war-songs and the remembrances
of brave deeds. Many of them are sung to a refrain.
More especially is this the case with those whose lines breathe sadness,
where the refrain comes like a sigh at the end of a regret:

Cold from the spring the waters pass
Over the waving pampas grass,
All night long in dream I lie,
Ah me! ah me! to awake and sigh --
Sigh for the City of Chow.

Cold from its source the stream meanders
Darkly down through the oleanders,
All night long in dream I lie,
Ah me! ah me! to awake and sigh --
Sigh for the City of Chow.

In another place the refrain urges and importunes; it is time for flight:

Cold and keen the north wind blows,
Silent falls the shroud of snows.
You who gave me your heart,
Let us join hands and depart!
Is this a time for delay?
Now, while we may,
Let us away.