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Ballades Iii - of Blue China

THERE’€™S a joy without canker or cark,
There '€™s a pleasure eternally new,
‘€™T is to gloat on the glaze and the mark
Of china that '€™s ancient and blue;
Unchipp’€™d, all the centuries through
It has pass’€™d, since the chime of it rang,
And they fashion’€™d it, figure and hue,
In the reign of the Emperor Hwang.
These dragons (their tails, you remark,
Into bunches of gillyflowers grew),'€”
When Noah came out of the ark,
Did these lie in wait for his crew?
They snorted, they snapp’€™d, and they slew,
They were mighty of fin and of fang,
And their portraits Celestials drew
In the reign of the Emperor Hwang.
 
Here '€™s a pot with a cot in a park,
In a park where the peach-blossoms blew,
Where the lovers eloped in the dark,
Lived, died, and were changed into two
Bright birds that eternally flew
Through the boughs of the may, as they sang;
‘€™T is a tale was undoubtedly true
In the reign of the Emperor Hwang.
 
ENVOY
 
Come, snarl at my ecstasies, do,
Kind critic; your '€œtongue has a tang,'€
But’€”a sage never heeded a shrew
In the reign of the Emperor Hwang.
Other works by Andrew Lang...



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