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The male pheasant flies away,
Lazily moving his wings.
The man of my heart! --
He has brought on us this separation.
The pheasant has flown away,
But from below, from above, comes his voice.
Ah! the princely man! --
He afflicts my heart.
Look at that sun and moon!
Long, long do I think.
The way is distant;
How can he come to me?
All ye princely men,
Know ye not his virtuous conduct?
He hates none; he covets nothing; --
What does he which is not good?
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IATHPublished by The Institute for Advanced Technology in the Humanities, © Copyright 2003 by Anne Kinney and the University of Virginia