The Book of Poetry, tr. by James Legge, [1876], at sacred-texts.com
2Lo! double mats are spread,
And stools are featly set.
Servants in waiting stand;
See host and guests are met.
He pledges them; they him;
He drinks; again they fill.
Sauces and pickles come,
Roast meat and broiled; and still
Palates and tripe are brought.
Then lutes and drums appear.
Singers fine concord make;—
The joyous feasters hear.
3The feasting o’er, from bow,
Lacquered and strong and bright,
Four well-poised shafts each sends,
That in the target light. p. 364
The guests are ranged as they
The mark have nearest hit.
They shoot again; the shafts
Are fairly lodged in it.
Their bearing then is judged;
Each takes his final place,
As mild propriety
Has round him thrown its grace.
4The long-descended king
Presides, and ends the feast.
With spirits sweet and strong
From vase he cheers each guest.
And for the old he prays,
While all with rapture glow,
That they the wrinkled back
And whitening hair may show;
Striving with mutual help
In virtue's onward ways,
And brightest happiness
Thus crown their latest days.