By the river-side at Jo-yeh,
girls plucking lotus;
Laughing across the lotus-flowers,
each whispers to a friend.
Their powdered cheeks, lit by the sun,
are mirrored deep in the pool;
Their scented skirts, caught by the wind,
flap high in the air.
Who are these gaily riding
along the river-bank,
Three by three and five by five,
glinting through the willow-boughs?
Deep the hoofs of their neighing roans
sink into the fallen leaves;
The riders see, for a moment pause,
and are gone with a pang at heart.