O Great Spirit! when hidden in the west protect us from our enemies, who violate the night and do evil when thou art not present. Good Spirit! make known to us your pleasure by sending to us the Spirit of Dreams. Let the Spirit of Dreams proclaim thy will in the night, and we will perform it in the day; and if it say the time of some be closed, send them, Master of Life, to the great country of souls, where they may meet their friends, and where thou art pleased to shine upon them with a bright, warm and perpetual blaze! O Grand, O Great Spirit! hearken to the voice of the nations, hearken to all thy children, and remember us always, for we are descended from thee. Courage, nations, courage! the Great Spirit, now above our heads, will make us vanquish our enemies; he will cover our fields with corn, and increase the animals of our woods. He will see that the old be made happy, and that the young augment. He will make the nations prosper, make them rejoice, and make them put up their voice to him, while he rises and sets in their land, and while his heat and light can thus gloriously shine out. The nations must prosper; they have been looked upon by the Great Spirit. What more can they wish? Is not that happiness enough? See, he retires, great and content, after having visited his children with light and universal good. O Grand Spirit! sleep not longer in the gloomy west, but return and call your people to light and life—to light and life—to light and life. HYMN TO SÛRYA, THE SUN (_From the “Rig Veda”_) His heralds bear him up aloft, the god who knoweth all that lives, Sûrya, that all may look on him. The constellations pass away, like thieves, together with their beams, Before the all-beholding Sun. His herald rays are seen afar refulgent o’er the world of men, Like flames of fire that hum and blaze. Swift and all beautiful art thou, O Sûrya, maker of the light, Illuming all the radiant realm Thou goest to the hosts of the gods, thou comest hither to mankind, Hither all light to be beheld. Traversing sky and wide mid-air, thou makest with thy beams our days, Sun, seeing all things that have birth. Seven bay steeds harnessed to thy car bear thee, O thou far-seeing one, God, Sûrya, with the radiant hair. Sûrya hath yoked the pure bright seven, the daughters of the chariot; With these, self-yoked, he goeth forth. Looking upon the loftier light above the darkness we have come To Sûrya, god among the gods, the light that is most excellent. THE WORSHIP OF THE SUN, AND THE DREAM OF ONAWUTAQUTO (_North American Indian_)