When the guests had taken their leave, Shih-yin did not go back to
rejoin Yue-ts'un, as he had come to know that he had already left.

In time the mid-autumn festivities drew near; and Shih-yin, after the
family banquet was over, had a separate table laid in the library, and
crossed over, in the moonlight, as far as the temple and invited
Yue-ts'un to come round.

The fact is that Yue-ts'un, ever since the day on which he had seen the
girl of the Chen family turn twice round to glance at him, flattered
himself that she was friendly disposed towards him, and incessantly
fostered fond thoughts of her in his heart. And on this day, which
happened to be the mid-autumn feast, he could not, as he gazed at the
moon, refrain from cherishing her remembrance. Hence it was that he gave
vent to these pentameter verses:

Alas! not yet divined my lifelong wish,
And anguish ceaseless comes upon anguish
I came, and sad at heart, my brow I frowned;
She went, and oft her head to look turned round.
Facing the breeze, her shadow she doth watch,
Who's meet this moonlight night with her to match?
The lustrous rays if they my wish but read
Would soon alight upon her beauteous head!

Yue-ts'un having, after this recitation, recalled again to mind how that
throughout his lifetime his literary attainments had had an adverse fate
and not met with an opportunity (of reaping distinction), went on to rub
his brow, and as he raised his eyes to the skies, he heaved a deep sigh