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I ascend that northern hill, |
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And gather the medlars. |
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An officer, strong and vigorous, |
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Morning and evening I am engaged in service. |
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The king's business is not to be slackly performed; |
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And my parents are left in sorrow. |
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Under the wide heaven, |
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All is the king's land. |
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Within the sea-boundaries of the land, |
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All are the king's servants. |
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His great officers are unfair, -- |
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Making me serve thus as if I alone were worthy. |
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My four horses never halt; |
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The king's business allows no rest. |
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They praise me as not yet old; |
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They think few like me in vigour. |
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While the backbone retains its strength, |
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I must plan and labour in all parts of the kingdom. |
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Some enjoy their ease and rest, |
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And some are worn out in the service of the State; |
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Some rest and loll upon their couches, |
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And some never cease marching about. |
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Some never hear a sound, |
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And some are cruelly toiled; |
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Some lazily roost, on their backs looking up, |
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And some are all-bustled in the service of the king. |
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Some indulge long in pleasure and drinking, |
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And some are miserable, in apprehension of blame; |
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Some, at home and abroad, pass critical remarks, |
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And some have everything to do. |