The Moon is a woman, and the Sun also. The stars are the Moon’s children, and the Sun had in olden times as many. Fearing, however, that mankind could not bear so much brightness and heat, they agreed each to devour her children. But the Moon instead of eating up her stars hid them from the Sun’s sight, who, believing them all devoured, ate up her own; no sooner had she done it than the Moon brought her family out of their hiding-place. When the Sun saw them, filled with rage, she chased the Moon to kill her. The chase has lasted ever since, and sometimes the Sun even comes near enough to bite the Moon, and that is an eclipse. The Sun, as men may see, still devours her stars at dawn, and the Moon hides hers all day while the Sun is near, and only brings them out at night when her pursuer is far away. [Illustration: Demeter or Ceres. _The Vatican._] HYMN TO THE MOTHER OF THE GODS (_Mexican Indian_) Hail to our mother, who caused the yellow flowers to blossom, she who scattered the seeds of the maguey, as she came forth from Paradise. Hail to our mother, who poured forth white flowers in abundance, who scattered the seeds of the maguey, as she came forth from Paradise. Hail to the goddess who shines in the thorn-bush like a bright butterfly. Ho! she is our mother, goddess of the earth; she supplies food in the desert to the wild beasts, and causes them to live. Thus, thus, you see her to be an ever-fresh model of liberality toward all flesh. And as you see the goddess of the earth do to the wild beasts, so also does she toward the green herbs and the fishes. HYMN TO CIHUACOATL, THE MOTHER OF MORTALS (_Mexican Indian_) Quilaztli, plumed with eagle feathers, with the crest of eagles, painted with serpents’ blood, comes with her hoe, beating her drum, from Colhuacan. She alone, who is our flesh, goddess of the fields and shrubs, is strong to support us. With the hoe, with the hoe, with hands full, with the hoe, with hands full, the goddess of the fields is strong to support us. With a broom in her hands the goddess of the fields strongly supports us. Our mother is as twelve eagles, goddess of drum-beating, filling the fields of tzioac and maguey like our lord Mixcoatl. She is our mother, a goddess of war, our mother, a goddess of war, an example and a companion from the home of our ancestors. She comes forth, she appears when war is waged, she protects us in war that we shall not be destroyed, an example and companion from the home of our ancestors. She comes adorned in the ancient manner with the eagle crest, in the ancient manner with the eagle crest. THE CHILDREN OF HEAVEN AND EARTH (_Polynesian_)