On the Eastern Way at the city of Lo-yang
At the edge of the road peach-trees and plum-trees grow;
On the two sides, — flower matched by flower;
Across the road, — leaf touching leaf.

A spring wind rises from the north-east;
Flowers and leaves gently nod and sway.
Up the road somebody's daughter comes
Carrying a basket, to gather silkworm's food.
With her slender hand she breaks a branch from the tree;
The flowers fall, tossed and scattered in the wind.

The tree says:

" Lovely lady, I never did you harm;

Before the Shrine of the Filial Marquis
rain falls;
beyond the bank of Yen-hua Stream
the sun sets.
Past traces now — as if they were in dreams;
the spring wind in sorrow shreds the passing clouds.

Before the Roman came to Rye or out to Severn strode,
The rolling English drunkard made the rolling English road.
A reeling road, a rolling road, that rambles round the shire,
And after him the parson ran, the sexton and the squire;
A merry road, a mazy road, and such as we did tread
The night we went to Birmingham by way of Beachy Head.

I knew no harm of Bonaparte and plenty of the Squire,
And for to fight the Frenchman I did not much desire;
But I did bash their baggonets because they came arrayed

Before the Press scarce one co'd see
A little-peeping-part of thee:
But since th'art Printed, thou dost call
To shew thy nakedness to all.
My care for thee is now the less;
(Having resign'd thy shamefac'tness:)
Go with thy Faults and Fates; yet stay
And take this sentence, then away;
Whom one belov'd will not suffice,
She'l runne to all adulteries.

Before the falling summer sun
The boughs are shining all as gold,
And down below them waters run,
As there in former years they roll'd;
The poolside wall is glowing hot,
The pool is in a dazzling glare,
And makes it seem as, ah! 'tis not,
A summer when my life was fair.

The evening, gliding slowly by,
Seems one of those that long have fled;
The night comes on to star the sky
As then it darken'd round my head.
A girl is standing by yon door,
As one in happy times was there,
And this day seems, but is no more,

Before the day ends
you will be far away, my sister
Outside, there's sleet and it's oddly bright.
(Please get me some rain-snow)
From the clouds, reddish, all the gloomier for it,
the sleet comes down thick and clumsy
(Please get me some rain-snow)
To get rain-snow for you
in these two chipped ceramic bowls
with blue water-shield designs
I flew out into this dark sleet
like a crooked bullet
(Please get me some rain-snow)
From dark clouds the color of bismuth
the sleet sinks thick and clumsy.
Ah, Toshiko,
now so close to death
you asked me

Before the bright sun rises over the hill,
In the cornfield poor Mary is seen,
Impatient her little blue apron to fill,
With the few scattered ears she can glean.

She never leaves off, or runs out of her place,
To play, or to idle and chat;
Except now and then, just to wipe her hot face,
And fan herself with her broad hat.

‘Poor girl, hard at work in the heat of the sun,
How tired and hot you must be;
Why don't you leave off, as the others have done,
And sit with them under the tree?’

Before she has her floor swept
Or her dishes done,
Any day you'll find her
A-sunning in the sun!

It's long after midnight
Her key's in the lock,
And you never see her chimney smoke
Till past ten o'clock!

She digs in her garden
With a shovel and a spoon,
She weeds her lazy lettuce
By the light of the moon,

She walks up the walk
Like a woman in a dream,
She forgets she borrowed butter
And pays you back cream!

Her lawn looks like a meadow,
And if she mows the place

O, Thou, who kindly dost provide
For every creature's want!
We bless thee, God of nature wide,
For all thy goodness lent:
And, if it please thee heavenly guide,
May never worse be sent;
But whether granted or denied,
Lord bless us with content!

Before I melt,
Come, look at me!
This lovely icy filigree!
Of a great forest
In one night
I make a wilderness
Of white:
By skyey cold
Of crystals made,
All softly, on
Your finger laid,
I pause, that you
My beauty see:
Breathe, and I vanish