For sale by Veery Books:

Lee, Chinglun Frank W. , Leaves from Chinese History in Verse: Book 1
• Lee, Chinglun Frank W.
  Leaves from Chinese History in Verse: Book 1
  Self, Edwards Bros., Ann Arbor, Michigan, 1952, Wraps, , , Fair
  
  

  87 pp. Wraps chipped, front wrap detached, else good. Poems about the rulers of China from legendary rulers and Hwangti through Chou, Ts'in, and Han dynasties. Dates and Chinese ideographs are given for each poem and dynasty. It is not clear whether these are translations of classical works or original poems. Contents: Legendary rulers; Hwangti, the Yellow Emperor; Yao and Shun; The Hsia Dynasty; The Shang Dynasty; Transfer of the Capital to Yin; The Chou Dynasty; The Eastern Chou Dynasty; Philosophers and Sages; Laws and Customs; The Ts'in Dynasty; The Early Han Dynasty; The Usurpation of Wang Mang; The Eastern (Later) Han Dynasty; and Summary of the Han Dynasty.

  
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Dame Wiggins of Lee

Google Dame Wiggins of Lee

TO AUTUMN

Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;
To bend with apples the mossed cottage-trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,
And still more, later flowers for the bees,
Until they think warm days will never cease,
For Summer has o'erbrimmed their clammy cells.

Who hath not seen thee oft amid thy store?
Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find
Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,
Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;
Or on a half-reaped furrow sound asleep,
Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook
Spares the next swath and all its twined flowers;
And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep
Steady thy laden head across a brook;
Or by a cider-press, with patient look,
Thou watchest the last oozings, hours by hours.

Where are the songs of Spring?  Ay, where are they?
Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,
While barred clouds bloom the soft-dying day
And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;
Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn
Among the river shallows, borne aloft
Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;
And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn;
Hedge-crickets sing, and now with treble soft
The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft,
And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.