In primeval times, a maiden, Beauteous Daughter of the Ether, Passed for ages her existence In the great expanse of Heaven. Seven hundred years she wandered, Seven hundred years she laboured, Ere her first‐born was delivered. Ere a beauteous duck descending, Hastens toward the water‐mother, Lightly on the knee she settles, Finds a nesting‐place befitting, Where to lay her eggs in safety. Lays her eggs within, at pleasure, Six, the golden eggs she lays there, Then a Seventh, an egg of iron. _Kalevala_ (CRAWFORD). Text. Stanza I. 1. The Lha which turns the Fourth is Servant to the Lha(s) of the Seven, they who revolve, driving their Chariots around their Lord, the One Eye of our World. His Breath gave Life to the Seven. It gave Life to the First. 2. Said the Earth: “Lord of the Shining Face, my House is empty.... Send thy Sons to people this Wheel. Thou hast sent thy Seven Sons to the Lord of Wisdom. Seven times doth he see thee nearer to himself, seven times more doth he feel thee. Thou hast forbidden thy Servants, the small Rings, to catch thy Light and Heat, thy great Bounty to intercept on its passage. Send now to thy Servant the same.” 3. Said the Lord of the Shining Face: “I shall send thee a Fire when thy work is commenced. Raise thy voice to other Lokas; apply to thy Father, the Lord of the Lotus, for his Sons.... Thy People shall be under the rule of the Fathers. Thy Men shall be mortals. The Men of the Lord of Wisdom, not the Sons of Soma, are immortal. Cease thy complaints. Thy Seven Skins are yet on thee.... Thou art not ready. Thy Men are not ready.” 4. After great throes she cast off her old Three and put on her new Seven Skins, and stood in her first one. Stanza II. 5. The Wheel whirled for thirty crores more. It constructed Rûpas; soft Stones that hardened, hard Plants that softened. Visible from invisible, Insects and small Lives. She shook them off her back whenever they overran the Mother.... After thirty crores, she turned round. She lay on her back: on her side.... She would call no Sons of Heaven, she would ask no Sons of Wisdom. She created from her own Bosom. She evolved Water‐Men, terrible and bad. 6. The Water‐Men, terrible and bad, she herself created from the remains of others. From the dross and slime of her First, Second, and Third, she formed them. The Dhyâni came and looked ... the Dhyâni from the bright Father‐Mother, from the White Regions they came, from the Abodes of the immortal Mortals. 7. Displeased they were. “Our Flesh is not there. No fit Rûpas for our Brothers of the Fifth. No Dwellings for the Lives. Pure Waters, not turbid, they must drink. Let us dry them.”