As by the lightning’s flash. 
  Nor I myself will live alone. 
  God from his great and heavenly throne
    Will not spare even me. 
  O friends and officers, come, blend
  Your prayers with mine; come, lowly bend. 
  Chow’s dynasty will pass away;
  Its altars at no distant day
    In ruins all shall be!

  “The drought consumes us.  It keeps on
  Its fatal course.  All hope is gone. 
  The air more fierce and fiery glows. 
  Where can I fly?  Where seek repose? 
    Death marks me for its prey. 
  Above, no saving hand!  Around,
  No hope, no comfort, can be found. 
  The dukes and ministers of old
  Give us no help.  Can ye withhold
  Your sympathy, who lately reigned? 
  And parents, how are you restrained,
    In this so dreadful day?

  “The drought consumes us.  There on high
  The hills are parched.  The streams are dry. 
  Drought’s demon stalks abroad in ire,
  And scatters wide his flames and fire. 
    Alas, my woful heart! 
  The fires within its strength consume;
  The heat without creates a gloom
    That from it will not part. 
  The dukes and ministers by-gone
  Respond not to my prayer and moan. 
  God in great Heaven, permission give
  That I may in retirement live,
    And try to heal my smart!

  “The drought consumes us.  Still I strive,
  And will not leave while I survive. 
    Duty to shun I fear. 
  Why upon me has come this drought? 
  Vainly I try to search it out,
    Vainly, with quest severe. 
  For a good harvest soon I prayed,
  Nor late the rites I duly paid,
  To Spirits of the air and land. 
  There wanted nought they could demand,
    Their favor to secure. 
  God in great heaven, be just, be kind! 
  Thou dost not bear me in Thy mind. 
  My cry, ye wisest Spirits, hear! 
  Ye whom I constantly revere,
    Why do I this endure?

  “The drought consumes us.  People fly,
  And leave their homes.  Each social tie
    And bond of rule is snapt. 
  The Heads of Boards are all perplexed;
  My premier’s mind is sorely vexed;
    In trouble all are wrapt. 
  The Masters of my Horse and Guards;
  My cook, and men of different wards:—­
  Not one has from the struggle shrunk. 
  Though feeling weak, they have not sunk,
    But done their best to aid. 
  To the great sky I look with pain;—­
  Why do these grievous sorrows rain
    On my devoted head?

  “Yes, at the mighty sky I gaze,
  And lo! the stars pursue their maze,
    And sparkle clear and bright. 
  Ah!  Heaven nor helps, nor seems to ken. 
  Great officers and noble men,
  With all your powers ye well have striven,
  And reverently have sought from Heaven
    Its aid in our great fight. 
  My death is near; but oh! keep on,
  And do as thus far you have done. 
    Regard you only me? 
  No, for yourselves and all your friends,
  On whom for rule the land depends,
    You seek security. 
  I turn my gaze to the great sky;—­
  When shall this drought be done, and I
    Quiet and restful be?”