On a Prospect of T'ai-shan

by Tu Fu

How is one to describe this king of mountains?
Throught the whole of Ch'i and Lu one never loses sight of its greenness.
In it the Creator has concentrated all that is numinous and beautiful.
Its northern and southern slopes divide the dawn from the dark.
The layered clouds begin at the climber's heaving chest,
and homing birds fly suddenly within range of his straining eyes.
One day I must stand on top of its highest peak and at a single glance see all the other mountains grown tiny beneath me.

The End of the Furrow

End of the Furrow,

by William Wilfred Campbell


When we come to the end of the furrow,
When our last day's work is done,
We will drink of the long red shaft of light
That slants from the westering sun.
We will turn from the field of our labour,
From the warm earth glad and brown,
And wend our feet up that village street,
And with our folk lie down.
Yea, after the long toil, surcease,
Rest to the hearts that roam,
When we join in the mystic silence of eve
The glad procession home.