The Book of Poetry, tr. by James Legge, [1876], at sacred-texts.com
2Near to the bank that cypress boat floats free,
While friends a second marriage press on me.
He was my only one, with forehead fair,
And on it the twin tufts of falling hair.
Till death to shun the evil thing I swear!
O mother dear, O Heaven supreme, why should
You not allow my vow, and aid my purpose good?