I stand by the grave where they buried The Maiden of Unahi, Whom of old the rival champions Did woo so jealously.

The grave should hand down through ages Her story for evermore, That men yet unborn might love her, And think on the days of yore.

And so beside the causeway They piled up the bowlders high; Nor e'er till the clouds that o'ershadow us Shall vanish from the sky,

May the pilgrim along the causeway Forget to turn aside, And mourn o'er the grave of the Maiden; And the village folk, beside,

Ne'er cease from their bitter weeping, But cl.u.s.ter around her tomb; And the ages repeat her story, And bewail the Maiden's doom.

Till at last e'en I stand gazing On the grave where she now lies low, And muse with unspeakable sadness On the old days long ago.

_Sakimaro_.

[Note.--The existence of the Maiden of Unahi is not doubted by any of the native authorities, and, as usual, the tomb is there (or said to be there, for the present writer's search for it on the occasion of a somewhat hurried visit to that part of the country was vain) to attest the truth of the tradition. Ashinoya is the name of the village, and Unahi of the district. The locality is in the province of Setsutsu, between the present treaty ports of Kobe and Osaka.]

THE MAIDEN OF KATSUSHIKA

Where in the far-off eastern land The c.o.c.k first crows at dawn, The people still hand down a tale Of days long dead and gone.

They tell of Katsushika's maid, Whose sash of country blue Bound but a frock of home-spun hemp, And kirtle coa.r.s.e to view;

Whose feet no shoe had e'er confined, Nor comb pa.s.sed through her hair; Yet all the queens in damask robes Might nevermore compare.

With this dear child, who smiling stood, A flow'ret of the spring-- In beauty perfect and complete, Like to the moon's full ring.

And, as the summer moths that fly Towards the flame so bright, Or as the boats that deck the port When fall the shades of night,

So came the suitors; but she said:-- "Why take me for your wife?

Full well I know my humble lot, I know how short my life."[136]

So where the dashing billows beat On the loud-sounding sh.o.r.e, Hath Katsushika's tender maid Her home for evermore.

Yes! 'tis a tale of days long past; But, listening to the lay, It seems as I had gazed upon Her face but yesterday.

_Anon_.

THE BEGGAR'S COMPLAINT[137]

The heaven and earth they call so great, For me are mickle small; The sun and moon they call so bright, For me ne'er shine at all.

Are all men sad, or only I?

And what have I obtained-- What good the gift of mortal life, That prize so rarely gained,[138]

If nought my chilly back protects But one thin gra.s.s-cloth coat, In tatters hanging like the weeds That on the billows float--

If here in smoke-stained, darksome hut, Upon the bare cold ground, I make my wretched bed of straw, And hear the mournful sound--

Hear how mine aged parents groan, And wife and children cry, Father and mother, children, wife, Huddling in misery--

If in the rice-pan, nigh forgot, The spider hangs its nest,[139]

And from the hearth no smoke goes up Where all is so unblest?

And now, to make our wail more deep, That saying is proved true Of "snipping what was short before":-- Here comes to claim his due,

The village provost, stick in hand He's shouting at the door;-- And can such pain and grief be all Existence has in store?

_Stanza_

Shame and despair are mine from day to day; But, being no bird, I cannot fly away.

_Anon._

A SOLDIER'S REGRETS ON LEAVING HOME

When _I left_ to keep guard on the frontier (For such was the monarch's decree), My mother, with skirt uplifted,[140]

Drew near and fondled me;

And my father, the hot tears streaming His snow-white beard adown, Besought me to tarry, crying:-- "Alas! when thou art gone,

"When thou leavest our gate in the morning, No other sons have I, And mine eyes will long to behold thee As the weary years roll by;

"So tarry but one day longer, And let me find some relief In speaking and hearing thee speak to me!"

So wail'd the old man in his grief.

And on either side came pressing My wife and my children dear, Fluttering like birds, and with garments Besprinkled with many a tear;

And clasped my hands and would stay me, For 'twas so hard to part; But mine awe of the sovereign edict Constrained my loving heart.

I went; yet each time the pathway O'er a pa.s.s through the mountains did wind, I'd turn me round--ah! so lovingly!-- And ten thousand times gaze behind.

But farther still, and still farther, Past many a land I did roam, And my thoughts were all thoughts of sadness, All loving, sad thoughts of home;--

Till I came to the sh.o.r.es of Sumi, Where the sovereign G.o.ds I prayed, With off'rings so humbly offered-- And this the prayer that I made:--

"Being mortal, I know not how many The days of my life may be; And how the perilous pathway That leads o'er the plain of the sea,

"Past unknown islands will bear me:-- But grant that while I am gone No hurt may touch father or mother, Or the wife now left alone!"