Page:Gems of Chinese literature (1922).djvu/182

 intently, I wondered what it could be. On it came, at first like the sighing of a gentle zephyr,…gradually deepening into the plash of waves upon a surf-beat shore,…the roaring of huge breakers in the startled night, amid howling storm-gusts of wind and rain. It burst upon the hanging bell, and set every one of its pendants tinkling into tune. It seemed like the muffled march of soldiers, hurriedly advancing bit in mouth to the attack, when no shouted orders rend the air, but only the tramp of men and horses meet the ear.

And sad is the hour when maturity is passed; for that which passes its prime must die.