Queen Moo’s Talisman

Entered according to act of Congress, June. 1902, by Alice Dixon Le Plongeon,

in the office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.

All rights reserved.

To Doctor Augustus Le Plongeon,

whose works inspired these pages, their author

dedicates them: not as a worth offering, but as

A Small Token

Of loving endeavor to gratify his oft expressed desire.

Brooklyn, N. Y., May, 1902.

ILLUSTRATIONS.

Engraved by F. A. Ringler & Co., of New York, from photographs

and drawings by

Dr. Augustus Le Plongeon.

PRONUNCIATION AND DEFINITION OF

MAYA PROPER NAMES.

PREFACE.

In justice to the author of “Queen Móo’s Talisman”, it may be recorded that at the time of its writing, there was no intention of allowing the verses to go into print; they were penned only for the one to whom they are dedicated.

The songs introduced have been arranged to the metre of the two or three ancient melodies yet occasionally heard among the natives of Yucatan. The one to the rain gods is a versification (set to the tune even now used in a sun-dance) of an old Maya prayer translated from that language by Dr. Le Plongeon and published in his work “Queen Móo and the Egyptian Sphinx.” The melody to which the Love Song is set is not Maya. In connection with the lines touching upon love and pain it may be remarked that in the Maya language there is but one word to express both.

In this poem are represented as nearly as possible, the religious ideas of the Mayas, their belief in KU, the Supreme Intelligence; in the immortality of the soul, and in successive lives on earth before returning to the great Source whence all emanate; also their rites and ceremonies as gathered from traditions of the natives of Yucatan, the fresco paintings found at Chicħen, and the books of ancient Maya authors.

As the general reader can hardly be expected to be familiar with the peculiar customs and ideas of the natives of Central America, these are sufficiently set forth in the Introduction, a careful perusal of which will greatly contribute to an appreciation of the poem.

Attention is also invited to the separate page containing a list of the Maya names and their meanings.

The second part of this narrative poem must be regarded not as a matter of belief on the part of the author, but solely as having been suggested by the belief of the natives who worked for Dr. Le Plongeon in his explorations among the ruins of Chicħen.

INTRODUCTION.

The word Maya, though not familiar to modern ears, is a most interesting one to the antiquary. It appears to have originated with the great nation whose people, as well as their language and country, bore that name, even thousands of years back; their empire extended over the land comprised between the isthmus of Tehuantepec and that of Darien; known collectively to-day as Central America.

Dr. Le Plongeon has shown that in Yucatan and in Egypt the radical MA, of the word Maya, meant earth and place. This word was used by Hindoo sages to indicate matter, the earth, as it is found in their cosmogonic diagram. All matter being regarded as illusion, the word maya, in India, has that meaning. The mother of Buddha was Maya Devi (Beautiful Illusion). Maya is matter, the feminine energy of Brahma. But in the Indian epic, “Ramayana”, Maya is spoken of as a great magician, an architect, a terrible warrior and famous navigator, who took forcible possession of, and settled in, the countries at the south of the Hindostan peninsula. Plainly, the poet personified as one hero the Maya colonists who long ago made their way westward, across the Pacific, and settled there.

On the shores of the Mediterranean we find nations whose ancestors seem to have been intimate with the Mayas, for the names of their country, of their cities, and of their divinities can be traced to the Maya tongue. Furthermore, their traditions, customs, architecture, mode of dress, weapons, and even their alphabetical letters are like those of the Mayas. From records in stone and MSS. we learn something of the philosophy of the Maya sages; and the same ideas are found among nations living in Asia and Africa.

Nothing could be more significant than the universality of the word Maya. In one country it is the name of a god or goddess; in another that of a hero or heroine; elsewhere that of a cast, tribe or country. This word is never used to indicate anything unimportant. In Greece the goddess Maia was daughter of Atlas, mother of Hermes, the good mother Kubéle, the Earth, Mother of the gods. We see a vestige of her worship in the still popular festival of the Maya or May Queen, fair goddess of spring, May, that very month when the Earth, matter, Maya, lives again, refreshed by the nourishing rain which, then particularly, after a season of drought, pours down upon those latitudes where the Maya nation had its birth.

The Maypole dance is yet performed among the natives of Yucatan, the land where it probably originated. The dancers are invariably thirteen in number, which may be another reminiscence of the land submerged beneath the waves of the Atlantic on the thirteenth day of the Maya month of Zac.

This Maypole dance, called in Yucatan “Ribbon Dance” is unquestionably a vestige of sun worship; the ancients, versed in astronomy, thus celebrated the sun’s entrance into Taurus, and the vernal equinox. The Maypole, as known in Europe, has been satisfactorily shown to be the remains of an ancient institution of Persia, India, and Egypt, where Maya civilization was carried in past ages. The May Queen is a personification of the goddess Maya, the feminine forces of nature; possibly too of that Maya country whence it came. In Yucatan there is no queen connected with the dance; there it is and was sun worship pure and simple.

In Yucatan, as in the British Isles and elsewhere, the pole is planted before the residences of leading citizens, and the dance is performed for a recompense. In Ireland the dancers wore over their other dress white shirts, a detail which becomes interesting in view of the fact that the Maya people always dress exclusively in white.

In Dr. Le Plongeon’s prolonged studies among the remarkable Ruins on the Yucatan peninsula, after finding, by much patient endeavor, a clue to the hieroglyphic signs covering the walls of ancient palaces and temples, he clearly saw that the word CAN was inscribed in a variety of ways on all the buildings, and as he advanced in his studies, he learned that this had been the title of several monarchs who constituted a powerful dynasty. It is a remarkably interesting fact that the same title, spelled Khan, is to-day given to rulers in many of the Asiatic nations; furthermore, the principal emblem on the banners of those Khans is the serpent or dragon.

Continued research, including excavations and a close study of every object found, together with several tableaux of mural paintings, convinced Dr. Le Plongeon that he had succeeded in tracing certain incidents which occurred in the last family of the CAN dynasty, and which led to its downfall. Upon studying the famous Troano MS., he found the same story recorded there; and the tragic events resulting from the acts of one member of that family, Prince Aac, are the theme of the present poem.

The scene is laid at Chicħen, which appears to have been the favorite city of the CANS, judging from certain indications, among these the prevalence of the serpent as an ornament in all the buildings. These serpents are represented covered with feathers indicating that they were emblems of Maya potentates. On ceremonial occasions royal personages and high officials wore mantles of feathers, whose colors varied according to the rank of the individual; yellow being that of the royal family, red that of the nobility, and green that of the learned men. The word CAN has in the Maya language a great variety of meanings, as Dr. Le Plongeon explains in his works; it is the generic name for serpent.

The personages whom Dr. Le Plongeon succeeded in tracing were—the CAN, his Queen, Zoɔ; their three sons—Cay, Aac, and Coh; and two daughters—Móo and Nicté. There was also an aged man named Cay, the High Priest, elder brother of the King. This venerable person is introduced in the early part of the poem. When he died, his nephew and namesake, Cay, succeeded to his position and title. Let it be noted that the High Priest was, as among the Egyptians and the Hindoos of old, superior in authority to the King himself.

At the death of King Can, his daughter Móo became Queen of Chicħen. As among the Egyptians, and the Incas in Peru, so among the Mayas, royal brothers and sisters were obliged to marry each other; in Siam and some other places the same custom exists to-day. One of Móo’s brothers had therefore to be Prince consort. Aac aspired to her hand, but Coh, a valiant leader in battle, and favorite with the people, was her own choice. This gave rise to lamentable events which caused the ruin of the dynasty, Aac refusing to be reconciled.

In a carving on stone, as well as in the Troano MS. and the Codex Cortesianus, Dr. Le Plongeon has found records of the destruction by earthquake, followed by submergence, of a great island in the Atlantic ocean. The author of the Troano MS. affirms that this land disappeared under the waves 8,060 years before the inditing of that volume. It is not known when the book in question was written, but judging from Egyptian records, the cataclysm must have occurred between ten and eleven thousand years ago. In the Maya books the lost land is called MU.

Lately Dr. Le Plongeon has discovered, in translating the inscriptions, written in Maya language with Egyptian and Maya characters, which adorn the faces of the Pyramid of Xochicalco, situated sixty miles to the southwest of the city of Mexico, in the State of Morelos, eighteen miles from the city of Cuernavaca, that said pyramid was a commemorative monument raised to perpetuate the memory of the destruction of the land of Mu among coming generations, and that it was made an exact model of the sacred hill in Atlantis which Plato in his Timœus describes as having been crowned by a temple dedicated to Cleito and Poseidon.

Looking at scenes depicted in mural paintings, one is driven to the conclusion that the Mayas were much addicted to the study of occult forces; they certainly used magic mirrors and appealed to haruspicy in their desire to foretell events. As may be seen in Dr. Le Plongeon’s “Queen Móo”, one tableau represents a wiseman examining the cracks induced by heat on the shell of an armadillo and the marks made by the vapor; from these signs he endeavors to read the fate of the young Princess Móo. The soothsayer, of the imperial family of China uses a turtle in the same way in a ceremony called Puu, for the royal family only, and in state affairs of exceptional importance.

Another tableau, also reproduced in “Queen Móo”, represents one man in his feather mantle, mesmerizing another, showing that hypnotism was anciently made use of in Yucatan by priests and wisemen.

There can be no doubt that certain stones were considered efficacious, as talismans. Jadeite, particularly that of a beautiful apple-green, mottled with grey, was held in high esteem by the Mayas, if they did not regard it as sacred. They called it “Bones of the Earth” because it was the hardest stone known to them. Of the many varieties of jadeite, for which no less than a hundred and fifty names have been found, according to Fischer, the apple-green is the most rare.

In the great square of the old city of Chicħen, Dr. Le Plongeon discovered, in the thick forest, two very ancient tombs with some of their decorative sculptures yet in place; those on one, enabled him to see that the tomb had been erected to the memory of Coh by his widow, Queen Móo. In it he found a statue of the Prince consort; also a large white stone urn, containing what proved, by chemical analysis, to have been human flesh, charred and preserved in red oxide of mercury. In the same urn, among other relics, was a beautiful ornament of green jadeite, like those decorating the necks of various personages portrayed in the sculptures of certain edifices.

In connection with the statue it must be observed that the ancient Mayas held a belief similar to that entertained by the Egyptians, regarding the condition of the soul after death, and in the same way made a statue of the deceased, with the idea that this would give the individual a hold upon life. The natives who aided in bringing Coh’s statue to light, out of the mausoleum where it had remained concealed for thousands of years, invariably spoke of it as the “Enchanted Prince”, and frequently assured its discoverer that he had succeeded in finding it because he himself had dwelt there in past ages, and was one of the great men whose effigies were seen on all sides.

When the larger portion of the charred viscera found in the urn was burned, to reduce it to ashes, the natives standing by exclaimed—“A majestic shade ascends amid the smoke! It is the form of the enchanted Prince, that seems to fade into nothingness.” So impressed were the men by what their imagination had evoked, that all ran from the spot in a state of agitation.

On the day when the statue, weighing three thousand pounds, was taken out of the monument, a party of hostile Indians suddenly emerged from the forest. One of their number was aged, and he remarked to his companions, “This represents one of our great men of antiquity.” Then the young men paid homage to the statue by bending one knee, in a manner peculiar to those people.

Traditions of their ancestors are not altogether lost among the natives, as some travelers assert. Many still perform rites and ceremonies in the depths of forests or in unexplored caverns, in the darkness of the night, but keep their secrets to themselves, remembering the tortures inflicted on their fathers by the Spanish priests to oblige them to forego the religious observances that had been dear to those of their race for countless generations.

In connection with the song to the rain-gods it may be said that although the natives of Yucatan are to-day Catholic in name, they really prefer to render homage to some statue of their forefathers, and cling tenaciously to a few of their old divinities. Among these may be mentioned Balam (tiger), guardian of the crops, likewise appealed to as a rain-god. In a subterranean cavern a few miles from Chicħen, there is an old image of a man with long beard; this serves as a representation of Balam, and to it offerings are made. The antiquity of the carving cannot be doubted, similar ones existing on pillars at the entrance of a very ancient castle at Chicħen. The figure in the cavern is on its knees, its hands are raised to a level with its head, palms upturned. On its back is a bag containing what the natives say is a cake made of corn and beans. The statue is now black, owing to the incense and candles with which its devotees frequently smoke it. Previous to the planting of grain, they place before it a basin of cool beverage made of corn, also lighted wax candles and sweet-smelling copal, imploring the god to grant an abundant harvest. When the crops ripen, the finest ears are carried to the grimy divinity by men, women, and children, who within the cavern dance and pray all day long, some of their quaint instruments serving as accompaniment to the Latin litanies which they chant, without having even the vaguest idea of their meaning.

The sun-dance mentioned in the Preface, is occasionally performed by Indians in Yucatan at the time of the vernal equinox. Twenty men take part—corresponding to the number of days in the ancient Maya month—but ten dress as women, whence it may be inferred that in olden times the dancers were of both sexes. All their faces are covered with masks of deer-skin, and each has on his head the inverted half-shell of a calabash, with turkey feathers standing up through a hole in the centre. They wear their usual spotless white garments, and sandals. Those clad as women are ornamented with large bead necklaces, principally red, in imitation of old Maya coin, and all the dancers have ear-rings. The hostile Indians[^[1]] still pierce their ears as their ancestors did; the rank of a chief being indicated by his having a ring in the left ear only, or in the right, or in both.

The Master of the dance wears a stiff circular cap, surrounded by upright peacock feathers that sway with every movement, towering above all the dancers, and about his shoulders is a string of big sea-shells. From his neck hangs a metallic representation of the sun, in whose centre is an all-seeing eye within a triangle, from which depends a large tongue, symbol of power and wisdom.

One man carries a white flag on which is painted an image of the sun, and a man and woman on their knees worshiping it. Three men, apart from the dancers, play a clarionet, a sacatan, and a big turtle-shell beaten with deer-horns. The Master marks time with a rattle, and in his other hand has a three-thonged whip like the flagellum of Osiris in Egypt; throughout the performance he remains standing close to the flag-staff.

Each dancer holds in his left hand a fan of turkey feathers whose handle is a claw of that bird; and in his right a small rattle made of a calabash shell, fancifully painted, containing pebbles and dried seeds. These rattles remind us of the sistrums used anciently in the temples of Egypt.

Around the pole on which the flag is furled, the dancers walk three times, with solemn tread, groping their way as if in darkness. Suddenly the flag is unfurled, the sun appears, all draw themselves up to their full height, raise their eyes and hands, and utter a unanimous shout of joy.

Now the dance commences, round and round the pole they go with various steps and motions, not graceful, but energetic and full of meaning. The dance is intended to represent, among other things, the course and movement of our planet around the sun. The chief and the dancers sing alternately:

“Take care how you step!”

“We step well, O Master!”

The melody and strange accompaniment are impressive and stirring, the rattles being particularly effective, now imitating the scattering of grain, then by a brisk motion of every arm sending forth a sound like a sudden rainfall on parched leaves, or a thunder clap in the distance, uniting with a shout raised by the dancers at the conclusion of each chorus. The fans, kept in motion, are emblematic of refreshing breezes.

The flag on the pole is undoubtedly a modern addition, simply to indicate what the dance originally was; of old, the pole itself represented the central orb; as the round towers did in Ireland, Persia, and India; the conical stones in Phoenicia; the pyramids and obelisks in Egypt, etc.—for in America, as in those countries, sun worship was the religion of the people.

Finally, the expression “Will Supreme” in the opening line of the poem is used in the sense of the Maya word UOL (or will) as applied by the Mayas of ancient times to the First Great Cause. This subject has been fully treated elsewhere by Dr. Le Plongeon.

[1]. These Indians were in May, 1901, subjugated by Mexican troops, under General Bravo, after a prolonged struggle, and their capital of Chan Santa Cruz was taken.

ARGUMENT.

I.

A soul returns to earth to live again in mortal form as daughter of a potentate who rules over the Maya Empire. When the Princess reaches womanhood, the High Priest Cay, her father’s brother, describes to her the destruction of the great land whence her people came; consults Fate regarding her future; gives advice to the Princess, and presents her with a talismanic stone, warning her that its loss might deprive her of her throne.

II.

The Princess is wooed by two of her brothers, who thus become rivals. Her preference is for Coh, whom she weds. Cay prophesies to her that in another earthly incarnation she will again be the sister and wife of him she has chosen for consort.

Aac, the unsuccessful suitor, is filled with jealous wrath.

The sovereign Can, and his brother the High Priest Cay, both pass away. The Can’s eldest son, also named Cay, becomes High Priest; Móo is Queen of Chicħen, and her consort the supreme military chief.

III.

The Prince consort is treacherously slain by his brother Aac, who admits his guilt, and is banished from the royal city, his elder brother warning him that he, Aac, will cause the downfall of the Can dynasty.

IV.

Multitudes assemble to bewail the death of Coh and witness the funeral rites. His ashes are laid to rest and, with his charred heart, deposited in a stone urn, the widowed Queen places her talisman, hoping to thus link her destiny with that of Coh. She builds a monument over his mortal remains and a statue made to his likeness, and erects a memorial hall, upon whose exterior walls she inscribes an invocation to the manes of her consort.

V.

Notwithstanding his crime, Aac ventures to renew his entreaties. Failing in his desire, he brings about a war that causes the ruin of the country and people. Finally the Queen is captured and imprisoned by Aac; but she is rescued by loyal subjects and with them flees to foreign lands.

VI.

Aac, frustrated even in his hour of triumph, becomes a tyrant, oppresses those under his sway, turns a deaf ear to better promptings, and at last is killed in a contest with some of his own subjects, who would restrain him. The famous CAN dynasty is thus brought to its close.

VII.

The Queen and her rescuers find tranquillity in the land of the Nile, where, long before, Maya colonists had made their homes. Here, Móo is received with open arms, and reigns again to the hour of her death.

SEQUEL.

I.

After many centuries have passed away, in a land far distant from that of the Mayas, Death snatches a baby girl from a loving brother. He stays upon earth; his lost sister again takes mortal form in another family; they meet and are united; the prophecy of the High Priest Cay being thus fulfilled. Together they journey to the land of the Mayas where, in the tomb of Coh, they find his heart and Móo’s talisman, in the urn in which she had deposited it many centuries before.

II.

Among the ruins of his palace Aac’s spirit wanders desolate, pleading for the blessing of forgetfulness in rebirth.

III.

The talisman brings visions of the long ago, voices of the Past; Cay, the Wise, still lives, still leads the way to paths of peace.

QUEEN MÓO’S TALISMAN.

Fall of the Maya Empire.

I.

Moved by the Will Supreme to be reborn,—

In high estate a soul sought earthly morn;

Life stirred within a beauteous Maya queen

Of noble deeds, of gracious word and mien.

Beneath the wing of Can, just potentate

O’er Maya-land, of old an empire great,

The Princess Móo knew all the joys of youth,

Led on from day to day by Love and Truth.

Earth’s fairest blossoms at her feet were flung;

About her slender form rare pearls were hung.

The zephyr soft was music to her ear;

The tempest wild awaked in her no fear.

Within her being Past and Future slept,

And into guileless mind no phantom crept.

Heart sang with Nature’s harmonies its best,

Like warbling bird within a downy nest.

But soon ’mong roseate tints more sombre thought

Unto youth’s bubbling spring dark ripples brought.

An aged man, divine love in his face,

Led Princess Móo within a sacred place

And there relating many a tale of old,

Of years to come would something too unfold.

Faint echos even now reverberate

What he then told about the awful fate

Of Mu, imperial mistress of the seas,

Renowned for power and wealth thro’ centuries.

“O’erwhelmed was she in one appalling night

When Homen, raging in his fearful might,

Threw lofty peaks that lesser mountains crushed,

And every life was into silence hushed.

The rended mountains sent aloft their fire

To meet the lightning’s dart and then expire.

From earth and sky incessant thunder broke;

The bursting clouds forced back ascending smoke;

Soon over all the seething billows swept:

Death’s lullaby the waters purled, and crept.

Then towering seas that gleamed as with snowcap,

Tossed ships on land, while into Ocean’s lap

The land convulsed, her haughty mansions heaved.

Waves onward dashed, as roaring flames they cleaved.

In contest fierce, for mastery thus strove

The elements, as luckless Mu they drove,

With Death to battle, down in yawning hell;

By all her gods forsaken, doomed she fell!”

“In blind despair, brother ’gainst brother fought;

For feeble minds to frenzy soon were brought.

Upon their knees men grovelled in the mud;

In vain from crashing wall, from flame and flood,

A shelter sought, demented they, with fear;

And many a pleading eye met maniac leer.

Fond mothers left their babes and raving fled;

Thus fast and faster unto death all sped.

Men ran distracted; climbed the stalwart trees,

By earthquake rocked like craft on stormy seas.

Cast off, they rushed to find in caverns deep

A refuge safe; nor into those might creep;

For when they drew anear, with thunderous sound

The cavern mouths closed up as heaved the ground.

In cities rich and great the house-tops swarmed

With frantic men, by fear to brutes transformed.

Around, the blackened, angry waters surged

Till dwellings rocked, and melting soon were merged,

Engulfed in dark abyss with writhing woe,

All swiftly spent in one last awful throe!”

“The temples of the gods, the halls of state,

Quick fell, but failed Lord Homen’s greed to sate.

High towers of stone in fragments crumbled down—

Of perfect structure those, and wide renown.

About man’s shattered works the waters whirled,

And he, to Terror’s chariot lashed, was hurled

To deep repose or spheres to man unknown,

While mangled body lay in ocean prone.

Above the horrid sights and awful fear

Dark waters rolled, mud-laden many a year.

At dawn high crested waves, victorious,

Exulted over Mu long glorious!

Of what she was, some vestige yet may rest

In depth profound ’neath Ocean’s heaving breast.

Perchance, when ages shall have fled, that land,

Stripped bare—again unable to withstand

Volcanic force, that will her life-springs start—

May rise, and thus reborn again take part

On this small globe, mere cosmic spark! yet still

A universe whose powers await man’s will.”

“To Ku the Mighty, hosts of souls went back

Upon that thirteenth night in month of Zac.

The dross returned to nursery of Earth—

All form to fire and water owes its birth.

Our wisemen then by edict made that date

Each week, of thirteen days, to terminate.

And noble hearts that day, with sacred rite,

In urns are hid away from mortal sight;

Then during thirteen days we all lament.

When Maya nation mourns some dire event,

On thirteen altars we our offering make;

And thirteen guests at funeral board partake.

That famous Mu may ne’er forgotten be,

To grief belongs thirteen, by Can’s decree.”

“For many years Mu’s day of doom was feared,

When those who into magic mirrors peered

Saw visions grim; their minds were filled with dread.

Not all believed that into Ocean’s bed

A land of vast dimensions could be thrust

By Homen’s power, yet many felt mistrust.

But one there was more heedful than the rest,

In science versed and with discernment blest;

From Mu he sailed with those who deemed him wise—

Our ancestor was he, thou dost surmise.”

The Princess, deeply touched, in silence heard,

With close attention, not to lose a word.

“To Oracle that ancestor gave ear—

Yet he for self had not a thought of fear—

And thus were many saved, of noble race

That otherwise had left on earth no trace,

With him for guide to this kind shore they came,

Renewing here the glory of their name.

Then all agreed that Can should Sovereign be.

He earnestly desired they might be free

From failings he deplored in that great State

They’d left, because ’twas threatened by dark fate.

He warned them oft—‘Of luxury and pride

Beware!’—for well he knew how, side by side,

Such foes can plunge the soul of man in mire.

The arrogance of Mu roused Heaven’s ire;

At her debauchery shocked, the gods forth fled;

Deserted thus, in agony she bled.

Simplicity and virtue stern, Can taught;

With zeal his subjects held this righteous thought;

Rejoiced in peace, and in dominion grew,

Till far and near the Mayas throve anew.

Can passed away before proud Mu was crushed,

But his successor’s voice was yet unhushed.

Now, Princess dear, we reach, it seems to me,

Portentous years—come then, thy fate we’ll see.”

Thus spake the Sage, as o’er his raiment white

He threw an ample cloak of feathers bright,

Of royal yellow these and emerald-green,

Beneath the sky resplendent was their sheen

When forth he went, the Princess by his side,

To sacred place that had no roof to hide

The glorious light of day, but walled so high

That none could see within while passing by.

Móo’s simple mind was here struck with amaze,

For where the wiseman fixed his earnest gaze

An armadillo thence out crept, nor stayed

Till at her feet, as if it thus obeyed

A force unseen or was by fetter bound;

But none appeared upon that hallowed ground.

The aged man this creature gently placed

Above a brasier which the Princess faced;

As in its depth clear-burning charcoal lay,

With pity moved she cried aloud—“Nay! nay!”

But he—“Think not that I would torture this

Or aught that is; could I then hope for bliss?

Each being in Creation works its way

To perfect rest, all must this law obey.

From Ku all emanate, are thence divine;

Eternal law ordaineth all combine

To aid; each one of us must give and take.

This creature, serving us, will progress make,

And we are lifted up in reaching down;

Thus by endeavor we ourselves may crown.

Learn then, this little friend shall nothing feel,

Experience shall to thee a truth reveal.

Thy slender fingers I but touch, and lo!

All feeling goes, no heat therein doth glow.

Now move thy hand, ’tis free again dost find;

This holy law to suffering flesh is kind;

Who knoweth this, sensation can enchain,

And armadillo shall not suffer pain.”

’Twas true indeed, for tranquilly it stayed

Above the burning coal, quite undismayed;

While such the heat endured that soon its shell

O’erspread became with misty lines. To spell

What weighty meaning auspice might conceal

The seer watched, its purport to reveal.

What promised he—of what did he then warn—Could

she evade the fate foretold that morn?

For house of Can he prophesied defeat,

Through dark revenge its overthrow complete;

By jealousy brought on, and Móo its source,

Tho’ blameless she, herself bereft of force.

Then back to Cay’s sanctum both returned,

Móo’s heart oppressed by much that she had learned.

This mood the Sage rebuked and bade her hear

His words: “Dear child, thy path lies straight and clear;

Whate’er may hap, no thought of wrath outsend;

This breedeth ill and nothing doth amend.

In spite of many wrongs thou may’st endure,

Of fame this oracle doth thee assure.

’Twould seem a jest to bid thee do aright,

For man, alas! is in a woful plight!

He gropes along in quest of Wisdom’s ray

And, ever seeking, often goes astray.

In noble deeds exert thy human might;

Let acts of kindness be thy best delight.