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The Book of Odes, by L. Cranmer-Byng, [1908], at sacred-texts.com
Cold from the spring the waters pass
Over the waving pampas grass.
All night long in dream I lie,
Ah me! ah me! to awake and sigh—
Sigh for the City of Chow.
Cold from the spring the rising flood
Covers the tangled southernwood.
All night long in dream I lie,
Ah me! ah me! to awake and sigh—
Sigh for the City of Chow.
Cold from its source the stream meanders,
Darkly down through the oleanders.
All night long in dream I lie,
Ah me! ah me! to awake and sigh—
Sigh for the City of Chow.