1«'P«S 
 
 LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 
 Shelf ^L.J£J 
 
 UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 
 
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 ZY 
 
 /^£<L 
 

 Copyrighted by 
 
 OWEN E. LONGSDORF, 
 
 1885. 
 
 All Rights Reserved. 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 Dear reader, if there is anywhere in all the wide universe 
 a place more delightful than the dim Region of Dreams, I 
 know it not. Its rosy mountains and hazy valleys ; 
 Its white cities, its whispering groves and bubling waters ; 
 Its vapory personages and sacred associations — everything 
 to delight the eye, please the ear and feast the imagination. 
 
 Do you ever revel among those purple valleys, where 
 cooling zephyrs ceaslessly sing to the sweet flowers,? If 
 you do, then can you understand why it is I go there so 
 often — why it is I would always abide there. 
 
 Here let me sing you a few songs that I gleaned from the 
 mystic personages who dwell in the soft lights of that delect- 
 able region ; — but they are dreams and I wish not to be mis- 
 understood. 
 
 I do not assume them to be essays in science, nor phil- 
 osophy, nor are they gems of poetry. They are what they 
 are — thoughts that came floating to me from the misty 
 Realms of Dreams and were written down, prefaced with a 
 short tale and published. Such is the whole history of this 
 little book. 
 
 Brother dreamers, I bid you welcome to the first fruits 
 of my solitary revels. 
 
 O. E. L. 
 
 Williamsport, Pa., June, 1885. 
 
"He must remember that while he is a descendant of the 
 past, he is parent of the future; and that his thoughts are 
 as children born to him, which he may not carelessly let 
 die. He, like every other man, may properly consider him- 
 self as one of the myriad agencies through whom works 
 the Unknown Cause; and when the Unknown Cause pro- 
 duces in him a certain belief, he is thereby authorized to 
 profess and act out that belief." — Herbert Spencer. 
 
THE TALE. 
 
 In the summer of 1884, I had business call me for some 
 months to our sister state Ohio. I was stopping in a small 
 town along the great river, some few miles below Marietta, 
 where I had rented two rooms, well furnished and alone, 
 over a store in the business quarters. Here it was this 
 strange experience befell me of which I am about to write. 
 
 I have no habits whereby I can account for this, as I 
 never use liquors of any kind, nor tobacco ; neither do I 
 know the taste of opium, morphine or absinthe, and I never 
 walk in my sleep. I am by no means a dreamer either, but 
 am extremely practical ; and, above all, as I have never had 
 time nor the inclination to read much, I would be incapable 
 of composing this. 
 
 Now, concerning, these so-called "Mound Builders," I 
 never before knew nor cared to know anything about them. 
 
 It was Tuesday, the fifth day of August, 1 884. Having 
 been out of town on business, I passed the night in return- 
 ing home. I never could sleep on the train , so, when I 
 reached my rooms I was very tired and not feeling very well. 
 My matters were not satisfactory either, and I was some 
 what out of humor. — These things I tell you so you may 
 know in what frame of mind I was. 
 
 Well, thinking I should sleep better if I took my break- 
 fast, I went out to the restaurant — carelessly leaving my 
 door unlocked as usual. If I remember rightly, I ate noth- 
 ing more than an egg, a little bread and drank a glass of milk, 
 
6 THE TALE. 
 
 as I never touch coffee nor tea. When I returned I found 
 a small package on my table and this note : 
 
 Dear Harold: — 
 
 Yesterday we opened one of the ancient mounds 
 on my farm. Among other relics of the ancient Mound 
 Builders we found this small statue or idol I here send you. 
 Please to accept it as a memento of your visit to our state. 
 
 From your father's friend, 
 
 Eric Von Stein. 
 
 As I said before, I am very practical and the odd or an- 
 tique never have had much charm for me. But, of course, 
 I was pleased to know that Mr. Von Stein so kindly re- 
 membered the son of his old college chum, and I intended 
 to call some time during the day to thank him. 
 
 I untied the package and found therein a small statue — 
 the figure of a man seated upon a ball, a graceful and loose 
 flowing robe over his shoulders ; his head bent a little for- 
 ward, apparently engaged in reading from the open book 
 upon his knees. The whole was not over six inches high, 
 and was cut from a hard pink and white tinted stone. It 
 was beautiful in proportion and finish, and, I thought it 
 would be a very acceptable gift to sister Cora, who, from a 
 child had had a mania for ancient things. 
 
 I placed it upon my table. As I passed across the room, 
 I looked in a tall mirror and there saw the reflection of the 
 idol or statue, and it appeared as if covered with a thin 
 gauze veil. I turned around — what do you think I saw? 
 A beautiful halo of purple and golden light encircling its 
 now lifted head! 
 
 Remember I am not in the least given to superstition, but 
 I did see these things though I never can hope to account 
 for them. However, I was not in the slightest degree fright- 
 ened, but was filled with astonishment and a prying curios- 
 ity. 
 
THE TALE. 
 
 I drew my chair before the table and watched the image, 
 thinking, perhaps my friend had prepared some good joke, 
 and was somewhere near to enjoy it. I was soon unde- 
 ceived. It raised its eyes and fastened them upon mine — in 
 a moment those glittering orbs held me as if in a trance. I 
 became dizzy, and a great cloud of purple and black played 
 over the statue and hid it all but its sinister eyes. Then I 
 became free, careless, unconscious to everything but the 
 feeling that some awful power held me in a terrible bondage ! 
 
 That was on Tuesday morning. When I awakened or re- 
 gained consciousness it was Thursday evening. On my 
 table lay a pile of manuscript in my own hand writing ; a 
 note folded and addressed to me, also in my own hand, and 
 a pile of pink and white dust where had stood the statue. 
 
 I opened the note and read: 
 
 "I, Zhangkiita Ghaki,* of royal lineage and high priest 
 at the temple Colzha in the city of Iidelya, in the vale of 
 Pothii in the land of Tchakapan, served the Lord of All 
 from childhood. I it is whose will has kept the atoms of 
 this image from disintegration ; I it is whose will holds thee 
 under my control and causes thee to write what I shall dic- 
 tate, or shall read from Ziita Kii the book of songs I hold 
 upon my knees. But know you, not from malice do I bind 
 thy will to my influence, but from that great love I have for 
 all my fellow men ! You are of a race that in my day I 
 never knew; but there was a prophesy among my people 
 that some day — some time we should become no more 
 upon the face of the earth ; our country should become des- 
 olate, and they who come after us know naught of refine- 
 ment, morality or enlightenment; our cities and temples 
 and palaces crumble away and return to the dust ; but from 
 the mystic lands beyond the rolling Zenwabacco should 
 come the seeds of a new race. It has been ! Glory be ever 
 
THE TALE. 
 
 to Thee, Thou Soul in whose eye are the destinies of 
 nations ! 
 
 Here copy from the book "On Kopha," — 'tis a prophesy 
 of one Inmiitha, a good man and a Seer, who lived six 
 hundred years before my vision saw the light of day. 
 
 "And nations are as men, — are born, and rise, 
 
 And live until their vital forces fail 
 
 With age or over much indulgence; then 
 
 They die and pass to dark oblivion ; 
 
 And other nations who may know them not 
 
 Arise and live, then too pass from the earth. 
 
 you who dwell in fair Azcocapan, 
 Beware lest you be wasting vital force 
 
 And this which I have dreamed shall come to pass : 
 
 1 dreamed I saw this mighty land as from 
 
 A mountain. From her heart came one whose face 
 
 Was sad, and who went teaching truth and love. 
 
 And I beheld the nations cast their gods 
 
 Of massy gold and silver in the pot, 
 
 And mould them into coins, to pay the priests 
 
 Who served the God this sad faced prophet taught. 
 
 But soon my dream was changed, and men were weak 
 
 And fallen into vice and foolishness; 
 
 So, of the nations in Azcocapan 
 
 Were all but one gone down the silent past ; 
 
 And this, — Othteca, moved before a horde 
 
 Of naked savages, and found retreat 
 
 Upon the plains of Methiicoco in 
 
 The distant lands beneath the southern sun. 
 
 And I beheld your cities and your works 
 
 Go crumbling into dust, and nought remained 
 
 But here and there a mound to tell your tale. 
 
 So ages chased each other from the scene 
 
 Until, from out the east a new race came 
 
And conquered back to culture once again 
 This savage land, and made a country where 
 The people grew to wondrous intellect. 
 
 And I, Inmiitha, had another dream 
 
 Wherein I saw this new race pass through woes 
 
 And wars and civil strife, but in the end 
 
 Came holy peace and reason. Then the mind 
 
 Was raised and truly throned above all else; 
 
 And nature's secrets were made known to light 
 
 And true religion entered in the world. 
 
 And men had learned the laws that govern soul — 
 
 So death had terrors for them never more ; 
 
 And mind communicated with the mind 
 
 Of whom it would, and all the world was bound 
 
 Into a common family and tongue." 
 
 That prophesy is almost all fulfilled. This which I 
 shall now cause thee to write, is the Ziita Kii or book of 
 Sacred Songs, wherein are found the teachings of our lord 
 Ahmiina, who was born but eighty years after the awful 
 earthquake convulsed the world, and sank Ata Thontii for- 
 ever under the briny billows of the Zenwabacco. 
 
 And now, write and give unto the world this which I 
 have given unto thee; and, in the realm of shades where 
 thou shalt come after thy body dieth, there will I meet thee 
 and show thee many beautiful things to delight the eye, 
 and tell thee many things to please the ear." 
 
 I was bewildered — what could it all mean? Hastily put- 
 ting on my hat, I gathered up the manuscript and note and 
 hurried down the town to Mr. Van Steins. He was at 
 home. I told him all that I knew of the facts and showed 
 him the papers. I need not say that shortly he too was 
 very much excited. After some consideration he bade me 
 
THE 
 
 HISTORY OF AHMIINA. 
 
 The history of him — the Holy Man 
 Ahmiina, written by himself before 
 He passed into the realm of shades. 
 Who triumphed over sin and selfishness 
 And sacrificed himself and his desires ; 
 Who purified his sold in solitude 
 And contemplation, so he might indeed 
 Become a teacher to his fellow men. 
 The manuscript from which this copy came 
 Is to be seen among the sacred things 
 Within the holy temple Kwatziico 
 Which overlooks the lake Okiini near 
 The sacred city of Oahlii. Here 
 Our lord was bom, and here his ashes rest 
 Within a box of gold incrusted with 
 A wealth of jewels priceless and most rare. 
 
 Where glints the waters of the lake 
 Okiini, in the Holy Vale 
 Of Tchintiipec — there was I born. 
 Oahlii, holiest of all 
 The cities in Azcocapan, 
 Where stands the grandest temple man 
 Has ever built. It's granite walls, 
 Its twenty gilded towers point 
 Their golden fingers to the sky ; 
 Its inner walls of massy gold 
 
12 
 
 HISTORY OF All M UNA. 
 
 And silver, porphyry and glass, 
 Made like a cavern hanging full 
 Of stalactites. And all about 
 That holy place a silence, awe 
 And mystic presence sat. And, too, 
 In that most holy temple, dwelt 
 Among the solemn lights, the soul 
 And golden figure of the god 
 Hozolla ; and, at each new moon 
 His spirit left the idol and 
 Was seen to mingle in the halls 
 Among the worshipers. Yes, oft 
 While serving at his altar, I 
 Have seen his shadow pass from out 
 The precious statue and ascend, 
 And smiling hang above the lake 
 Until the crescent hid behind 
 The Cocal Allii mountain peaks ; 
 And then, returning silently 
 To his abode within the breast 
 Of his rich statue, from its eyes 
 Of opal looked he forth until 
 Another crescent moon was born. 
 
 O what a sacred place was that 
 To me who loved the awful and 
 Sublime ; on whom the earthquake shock 
 Or cyclone never wrought a fear, 
 But ever came as something from 
 The Soul behind the visible ! 
 
 In fair Oahlii's granite walls 
 Was I, Ophii Ahmiina born. 
 My father, — Ophii Tarnah, one, 
 A wealthy merchant who was known 
 O'er all this land Azcocapan, 
 
HISTORY OF AHMIINA. 
 
 13 
 
 Whose mighty caravans had gone 
 
 Beyond the Alia Gawii range 
 
 Of mountains, to the distant lands 
 
 Along the Zenwabacco sea 
 
 From which the morning sun is born 
 
 And westward, o'er the prairies, o'er 
 
 The Cocal Allii mountains, rich 
 
 In precious metals and in views, 
 
 To where the Ilmanocco beats 
 
 Upon Azcoca's western shore. 
 
 The tales his agents used to tell 
 Of these strange mountains, lands and seas, 
 Were food for fancy, and my young 
 Imagination soon unrolled 
 And I became a dreaming man. 
 This happy life was soon to pass — 
 Ere I was seven years of age 
 The demon of the yellow plague — 
 Traa Cyah, came from out the south 
 And smote the dwellers of our land. 
 Alas ! ere winter brought her frost 
 To help us beat the demon from 
 The earth, I was an orphan ; and 
 As was the way in those dark times, 
 My lot was cast among the slaves 
 Who knew no parents and no kin, 
 And all my father's property 
 Reverted to the royal store. 
 So was I sold and bought, and sold 
 As though I neither felt nor thought ; 
 And yet, must I remember that 
 My languages that serve me now 
 So well, I would have never known. 
 But, being with the common men 
 I learned the common, vulgar tongues. 
 
14 
 
 HISTORY OF AHMIINA. 
 
 In many lands have I abode: — 
 In Yiia, Tolta, Chiia, Zyng, 
 Popola, Othtepan, and Ghu ; 
 Othteca, Iivoh, Woolh and Psaih ; 
 Almoola, Ashti, Buhr and Zhii, 
 And many cities, which to name 
 Were useless and of little eood. 
 
 O, you who read, if you indulge 
 In day dreams and a happy world 
 Of unreality you build 
 Around you, and in that abide 
 And hate to come in the cold world 
 Where things are practical and stern, 
 Then can you feel with me whose life 
 Was burdened with a ceaseless toil, 
 And knew and felt myself a slave. 
 
 At last, when thirteen years of age 
 I found myself again at home — 
 At home ? Ah, no ! but in the place, — 
 Oahlii by Okiini's breast 
 Where I was born, and where I spent 
 My happy days of infancy 
 The son of one, the wealthiest 
 In all the realm, except the king. 
 And now had I returned — a slave ! 
 Away from home for six short years 
 And then return — a slave — a slave ! 
 O what a life was that to me 
 By nature keen and sensitive ; 
 And every time I sought for death 
 Some cruel hand would stay my deed. 
 
 But, once I wandered to the lake 
 When all the world was sleeping 'neath 
 
HISTORY OF AHMIINA. 
 
 15 
 
 A starry sky, and when I came, 
 
 I would have found eternal peace 
 
 Beneath Okiini's glassy waves ; 
 
 But, ere I sank the second time, 
 
 Tanto — an aged priest and wise 
 
 I hope. I never shall forget ! — 
 
 He, musing in the silence, saw 
 
 Me spring and heard my splash, and from 
 
 The lake he took me to his cell 
 
 Within that solemn temple, and 
 
 When morning came he paid my price 
 
 And told me I was free. I loved 
 
 That bearded face with all the love 
 
 A poor, unhappy child could give ! 
 
 Then, weeping as I kissed his hand 
 
 And thanked him for his good to me, — 
 
 About to take my leave — he bent 
 
 And caught me in his arms, and pressed 
 
 Me to his heart with kisses, and 
 
 He told me how he loved me. O, 
 
 I need not tell the happy years 
 
 I served Hozolla, so to be 
 
 Continually in the sight 
 
 And presence of that holy man ; 
 
 Nor that he taught me all the lore 
 
 And sacred stories of the times 
 
 When men knew naught of sin 
 
 And sadness. And the sciences 
 
 Of plants and flowers, rocks and hills ; 
 
 Of life and death ; — the sciences 
 
 Of mind and matter, soul and flesh ; 
 
 The motions of the stars and suns 
 
 That all the endless ethers fill 
 
 And are the atoms of the form 
 
 Of one— the holy, Perfect All ; 
 
 And other things of moment and 
 
l6 HISTORY OF AHMIINA. 
 
 Of passtimc he had told me. But, 
 One morning, going to his cell 
 I found him silent, cold and dead, 
 But on his face the smile of peace 
 That never left him e'en in death. 
 
 I need not tell you of the days 
 And weary nights I passed before 
 The golden image of the god ; 
 And, though I would deceive myself, 
 I found no consolation there. 
 And then, Traa Cyah came again — 
 The demon of the yellow plague, 
 And with him, famine gaunt and bare. 
 
 0, how they revelled in that realm! 
 And Death and Hate, Despair and fear — 
 Ran riot in that sacred realm ! 
 
 We priests then closed the temple doors 
 To keep the frantic populace 
 From out the holy place, and then 
 We clung around the golden god. 
 And yet, Contagion spared us not, 
 But, one by one, when stricken, crawled 
 Away among the solemn shades, 
 So dying they would not offend 
 The sight of him whose soul abode 
 Within the golden idol, and 
 Who watched us from his opal eyes. 
 
 At last, from those four hundred priests 
 
 1, even I — Ahmiina, I 
 Alone remained alive to keep 
 The sacred fire burning bright! 
 And those three hundred ninety-nine 
 In that great cavernous abode 
 
 Of gods, lay dead polluting those 
 
Most sacred, consecrated halls. 
 
 I left the golden image when 
 
 The night was falling, and the moon 
 
 Just new looked in the lattice work 
 
 Upon the roof, as though she called 
 
 Hozolla from his golden form. 
 
 I watched him ; but the crescent sank 
 
 Behind the Cocal Allii peaks, 
 
 And still his spirit tarried in 
 
 The idol. Then suspicion came, 
 
 And I began to think that all 
 
 Was but the product of a trick, 
 
 And so I left to search for food. 
 
 Alas ! I found naught there to eat 
 
 Or drink ; and O, my horrible thirst, 
 
 And hunger gnawing like a wolf! 
 
 I rose, and climed a tower, where 
 
 I sat and looked about upon 
 
 The holy city — all was still, 
 
 No sound nor token of a life. 
 
 But O, the awful sight my eyes 
 
 Beheld below me in the streets : 
 
 The pavements, streets and doorsteps far 
 
 As eye could see, lay full of dead 
 
 And festering forms — but all was still : 
 
 The morning sun looked down upon 
 
 A city silent as a tomb ! 
 
 Then I descended, faint and weak, 
 Into the vaulted hall where sat 
 The golden idol of the god ; 
 And lifting up my voice, I called, 
 In hope there might be one to hear 
 And help me ope' the ponderous doors 
 That shut me in this sacred jail, 
 And in this fetid atmosphere. 
 
iS 
 
 HISTORY OF AHMIINA. 
 
 I called in vain, no answer came — 
 The echoes only ha-haed back 
 And mocked. And then I realized 
 I stood within a temple, in 
 A city of unhurried dead! 
 
 Ah, soon the night came creeping on, 
 And with it came a beating storm 
 Of wind and rain ; and all the sky 
 Illumined by the vivid glare 
 Of lightning seemed a pit of fire. 
 And O ! the echoes of the voice 
 Of thunder in the hollow hall 
 Near deafened me. — I knelt before 
 The great Hozolla and I prayed — 
 O you who read, if you have known 
 The deepest anguish man can feel, 
 Then can you sympathize with me 
 Who waited, knowing death was nigh, 
 But yet — who longed so much to live ! 
 
 O how I grovelled on the floor 
 Before that lifeless god of gold ; 
 And how I prayed until the sweat 
 Rolled from me in a stream, and blood 
 Fell also from my brow upon 
 The jewelled pavement at the throne! 
 You ask me: "did Hozalla hear 
 And give me comfort in my woe ?" 
 
 brother, I must answer — no ! 
 
 1 must tell you, how, doubtful of 
 The power of Hozolla whom 
 
 I once adored, I filled with hate 
 And mad resentment, so I turned 
 And smote the golden idol twice 
 
Upon the breast, and blasphemed, till 
 I thought I saw him frown from out 
 His opal eyes; — and then, in fear 
 And trembling lest he should resent 
 The mad dishonor to him, there 
 I fell upon my face and swooned. 
 I knew no more until the night 
 Was gone and rosey morn was born. 
 Upon the mighty doors of brass 
 And gold, I heard the sound of blows ; 
 And all about the temple surged 
 A sea of men and women, drunk 
 With indignation at the god 
 Who called for prayer and offerings, 
 And gold, but gave no good return, 
 Nor ever saved them from the plague. 
 
 At last the massy doors fell in, 
 And I, who hid among the folds 
 Of crimson tapestry behind 
 The god, — beheld the angry crowd 
 Come, rushing in the presence, wild 
 And full of blasphemy and hate. 
 They pulled the holy statue down 
 From out the ruby throne upon 
 The jewelled floor, where they reviled 
 And broke it in their furious hate ; 
 But when the night had come again 
 I slipped away, and rested not 
 Till I had left the city far, 
 
 No, this to you is nothing but 
 A tale unpleasant; and we all 
 Imagine that we have enough 
 Of troubles of our own, and want 
 No other's heaped upon our hearts ! 
 
20 HISTORY OF AHM1INA. 
 
 But, if I tell you not the state 
 In which I grew to manhood, then 
 You can not understand the wants 
 That drove me from the midst of men 
 To look for solitude, and rest. 
 
 So the holy man has written 
 Of his life from birth to manhood. 
 ! the sorrows, pains and troubles 
 He has met and conquered bravely. 
 He who knows no dissappointments , 
 Sorrows, losses, pains or troubles, 
 Can not sympathize for others : 
 He alone holds perfect manhood 
 Who has risen from affliction. 
 So, brother, good Ahmiina — 
 He who passed through sin and sorrow, 
 He is able to advise you. 
 Read now, how he was a skeptic 
 In a lonely cavern dwelling ; 
 But his spirit, still persisting 
 He shoidd know the Holy Being 
 Who is All and Soid of all things, 
 Never ceased to reason with him 
 Till he found the Holy Heart. 
 Read ! — -for here is what he wrote us 
 For a light to lead us upward 
 To the realms of truth and knowledge. 
 
Away where Nonno's waters wash 
 Along the Cocal Alii's feet, 
 Ere winding through the level plains 
 To pour his tribute in the lap 
 Of Minta Siiva — mighty queen 
 Of all the rivers in the land ; 
 Away there in the mountain wilds 
 I dwelt, — a cavern for my home. 
 And there I lived and pondered on 
 The worth and source of life ; the end — 
 If end there be, to all ; and in 
 My heart a thousand questions sprang 
 For answer. Twenty years had come 
 And gone since I this lonely cave 
 Had made my home, before my soul 
 Had learned a lesson of pure truth : 
 Alas! — too much depended I 
 Upon the sacred books and tales 
 O holy writing ; and my mind 
 Was never free, and reason dared 
 Not yet assert her right to rule. 
 Ah, twenty years ! and long, long years 
 So full of change — my beard, all white 
 With sorrow and old age, hung low 
 Upon my breast. O, all my days 
 Were contemplation, and my nights 
 Were longings after truth and love. 
 
 But once, when all the world was still 
 Except my weary heart, I went 
 And sat myself beneath a pine 
 Whose needles, smiling to the moon, 
 Kept whispering and whispering 
 O what ? — Ah, what, I could not hear 
 Then I arose, and climbing down 
 The rocky bank, I stood beside 
 
The rolling Nonno — everything 
 
 But me that night seemed full of joy : 
 
 The river rippled laughingly 
 
 Along his rushy banks ; the reeds 
 
 Were nodding to the laughing grass ; 
 
 And over all the silver moon 
 
 Down looking poured her flood of light. 
 
 But I, from prayer and fasting, weak 
 
 Fell fainting on my face among 
 
 The grasses on the river bank. 
 
 When I revived I heard a sound 
 As of a thousand whisperings — 
 I listened — 'twas a voice of praise 
 From out a million tiny throats ; 
 But yet I could not understand. 
 I raised my head above the grass 
 And lo, I heard no more the song 
 Or chant of praise and happiness. 
 So down I lay my head once more 
 Among the reeds and grasses there, 
 And lo, I heard the chant again ! 
 And then, unto my waiting soul 
 A deeper understanding came; 
 So, listening it did comprehend 
 And to my reason could translate 
 The chant the reeds and grasses sang. 
 So did I find that happiness 
 The pine tree needles knew with all 
 The sinless things of dust, what I 
 These weary years had sought 
 And sought, and yet had never found 
 Until, I, falling in the dust, 
 The knowledge of the dust had found — 
 That knowledge I had sought in vain 
 Among the sacred books of men. 
 Then all my soul was glad — for all 
 
My hopes returned. And down beside 
 A pine whose needles sighed in song, 
 I threw myself, and in the grass 
 I burried all my face and mind. 
 
 O brother ! anguish keen and sharp 
 Had been my lot from birth. But now 
 No more I doubt the Holy One 
 Whose word is found in all — in all ! 
 That voice of love spake through the grass 
 And through the running river ; — all 
 The wide creation sounds that voice ! 
 
 here I write the truth I heard 
 Through nature from the Holy Soul ; 
 But more I heard I did not know 
 The meaning of — for, who is pure 
 And wise enough to comprehend 
 The workings of the Mighty Heart? 
 
 And now, before I cease to write, 
 
 1 ask, that, after I am gone 
 To that invisible abode 
 
 Where all my fathers shades abide, 
 Will Tchina Kiida, — whom I love, 
 The son of Tchina Arnin prince 
 Of Chiia, — will he take the task 
 Of publishing my manuscript, 
 So all my followers may know 
 The faith, and have my history ? 
 For he, of all my friends, has held 
 The deepest place within my heart ; 
 And he was first to dare renounce 
 The false idolatry, and come 
 As my disciple and my friend. 
 
 And now, to thee dear Kiida, yet 
 One word before I lay away 
 
My pen : — My pilgrimage began 
 
 With thorns and tears and many ills, 
 
 Among a pagan race, and one 
 
 Whose morals and enlightenment — 
 
 Alas ! were lax and of poor quality. 
 
 But look about thee at the change : 
 
 Not thirty years have flown away 
 
 Since I began to teach the faith, 
 
 Yet now, o'er all Azcocapan, — 
 
 From Ilmanocco on the west 
 
 To Zenwabacco on the east ; 
 
 And from the great lakes on the north 
 
 To Methiicoco and the sea 
 
 Toltoloc in the golden south, 
 
 Is scarce a town or city but 
 
 Has heard the faith. My Kiida, you 
 
 Must now become the guide, — and lead, 
 
 O lead my breathren forth to truth 
 
 And justice, love and purity ! 
 
 And I shall watch thee from the realms 
 
 Beyond this seeming solid world. — 
 
 Farewell, — in peace and love, farewell ! 
 
 . So ends the history of one who met 
 The troubles of a troubled world, and turned 
 Them so they worked to his advantage. 
 
Now my brother, let me tell 
 How Ahmiina walked the earth ; 
 How he suffered hunger, thirst, 
 To alleviate the pains 
 And the dusk of ignorance 
 In his evil fellow men. 
 O the good that he has done ; 
 the sorrow he has cured ; 
 the pain that he has stopped ; 
 the tears that he has dried ; 
 As he wandered up and down 
 Through this wide Azcocapan ! 
 Let the weary ashes rest, 
 In his jeiveled urn of gold ! 
 Let his name forever ring 
 With the praise of multitudes ! 
 For he brought us peace and rest, 
 Love and light and holiness ! 
 
 Let me copy for your pleasure — 
 For your pleasure and your learning, 
 All the truth he heard from Spirit 
 Singing through the tongues of nature. 
 Hear the chant the grasses chanted 
 When he fainted by the river — 
 By the rolling river Nonno. 
 Not his mortal ears that heard it 
 But his spirit ears and reason ! 
 Hear the chant the grasses chanted 
 When he fainted by the river — 
 By the rolling river Nonno. 
 
 "Listen, listen lonely mortal, 
 Bending down your new attention — 
 We the humble grasses 'round you, 
 We have seen you all these long years 
 
26 
 
 HISTORY OF AHMIINA. 
 
 Bend before your cave in weeping. 
 We have rustled when you passed us, — 
 We have called for your attention — 
 All in vain — in vain we called you, 
 For your mind and soul and longings 
 Ever supplicated Silence — 
 But the Silence cannot speak ! 
 
 Lonely brother, lonely brother, 
 Hear us happy grasses singing 
 Of the love that never dieth ; 
 Of the hopes that stir within us ; 
 Of the life that soon must leave us — 
 But will fill a higher being 
 With the life and soul and selfhood 
 Of the Mighty Soul of All. 
 
 Listen ! you whose ear is bending 
 Here among us chanting grass blades ; 
 You, who longed and languished vainly 
 For the Holy Heart and Real ; 
 You, who looked to books and fables 
 For the voice of the Almighty ; — 
 Come ! O come, and we will tell you 
 How to seek Him — how to find him. 
 
 When you want the rolling river 
 Winding through the verdant valleys, 
 Do you seek the painter's canvass — 
 Do you seek the works of art ? 
 When your heart is sad and broken 
 And you lack the light of love, 
 Do you seek the poet's volume 
 Filled with songs of pain and pleasure ? 
 When you wish to hold communion 
 
 J 
 
With the Holy Heart of All, 
 Should you seek the priestly story 
 Or the tales of tardy tongues ? 
 
 O no ! brother — O no ! brother — 
 He who fills the All forever ; 
 He from whom all things are taken ; 
 He in whom all things have being, — 
 He is in you and around you — 
 In all things and all things of Him ! 
 He should not be sought in fables 
 Nor in prayer nor supplication. 
 Would you seek Him — would you know Him ? 
 Learn His tongue : — the voice of nature ! 
 Never uses He a language 
 Like the sons of men are using, 
 But He speaks forever — ever 
 In His laws and works and silence. 
 They whose hearts and eyes are open 
 To th' influences of nature, 
 If their souls and minds are holy 
 And unselfish and unbiased, 
 Can not help but see the working 
 Of a pure and perfect plan. 
 All must needs look cold and cruel 
 To the eye that scans the surface; 
 But, to him who deep examines 
 All works to a perfect plan. 
 
 O Ahmiina — O Ahmiina 
 Hearken to the Holy Heart: 
 He will speak if you will listen 
 For He loves you — ah, He loves you !" 
 
2 8 HISTORY OF AHMIINA. 
 
 So the happy grasses sang 
 To Ahmiiua's spirit ears : 
 And his spirit, — -filled with joy, 
 Then interpreted the chant 
 To his intellect and mind. 
 So the happy grasses sang 
 To Alimiinds spirit ears; 
 When he fainted by the river — 
 By the rolling river Nonno. 
 
 0, the rapture then that caught 
 Good Ahmiina's soul and self/ 
 An exqidsite sea of peace, 
 Crystal pure and bottomless 
 Where his troubles washed away ! 
 When he fainted in the dust — 
 Lo, the dust had found a tongue ; 
 And it told him in a chant 
 How to find the Holy Heart ! 
 
 Now I bring the Book of Gold— 
 Ziita Kii the holy book, 
 Wherein are the sacred songs — 
 Songs from Silence, sung by Sold 
 Through the tongues of Nature. 
 Now I bring the Book of Gold — 
 Ziita Kii the holy book, 
 And before you open wide 
 All its pages. Look and read 
 What Ahmiina wrote for you — 
 May it lead you to the truth 
 And the holy Light of Lights! 
 
THE ZIITA KIL 
 
 DEDICATION. 
 
 The Ziita Kii or holy book, wherein 
 Are writ the teachings of the Holy Man 
 Ahmiina ; he, who triumphed over sin 
 And self, and in the end attained such peace 
 And purity that he might speak to God. 
 The Ziita Kii or Songs of Silence, which 
 Ahmiina heard within his soul and wrote 
 To lead his fellow men to love and light 
 And sweet communion with the Holy Soul 
 Who is indeed the All and Soul of All. 
 
 O you who read, if in your heart abides 
 A soul that longs for purity and peace, 
 I pray you, give attention to the thoughts 
 Here written, — seek to understand, and pause 
 Ere you accept as truth what here is wrote — 
 For, if it came not from the Holy Soul, 
 A sinless soul must feel it to be false. 
 But, if this teaching come from that One Soul 
 Who nlleth all and in whom all abides, 
 A sinless soul must feel it to be truth, 
 And know it emanates from that Pure One — 
 The Perfect Soul and Essence of the All. 
 
THE ZIITA KII. 
 
 Would you seek for truth and knowledge, 
 Would you seek for light and reason 
 Pause and read, for here is wisdom. 
 To yourself there is addition ; 
 From yourself there is subtraction — 
 But the sum — the sum of all things 
 Never changes, never changes : 
 Ah, the sum of all is — God ! 
 
 Life is but a great Progression — ■ 
 'Tis addition, 'tis addition 
 And a conquest over trouble. 
 Death is but a Retrogression — 
 'Tis subtraction, 'tis substraction : 
 A submission to the passions 
 And the low desires and feelings. 
 In yourself your fate is planted — 
 None can sink and none can raise you 
 If you be yourself your master. 
 O my brother — O my brother, 
 If you doubt me, pause and reason ; 
 But the words you hold before you — 
 They are wisdom — they are wisdom ! 
 Let me tell you — let me tell you — 
 All is pure and all is holy ; 
 There is nothing that is evil 
 In itself or its intention — 
 All is to you what you make it. 
 
32 
 
 THE ZIITA KII. 
 
 I, Ahmiina, musing wandered 
 Through ravines and lonely canyons, 
 Where the Nonno's waters winding 
 Murmured hopeful of the sea; 
 And my heart was full within me — 
 Filled with peace that knew no pain ; 
 For the silent soul within me 
 Knew the unseen Soul of All. 
 
 There I sat me on a boulder, 
 Torn from out the rocky walls 
 High above the limpid Nonno ; 
 And I musing watched the water 
 Rolling ever toward the sea ; 
 But my soul was in communion 
 With the Soul that filleth All. 
 
 O these mystic, unseen forces — 
 O what are they — O what are they ? 
 And the soul within me answered : 
 "This is Mind that ruleth all things — 
 Yea, the Mighty Mind of All ! 
 All has sprung from Soul and Spirit, 
 Unto that it would return, 
 But the Sleepless Soul of Silence 
 Holds all bound to work His will ! 
 
 Man is like the running river : 
 Passions are the mighty forces 
 That forever draw him downward 
 Till he lose his conscious selfhood 
 In the sea from which he sprang ; 
 But his pure desires and feelings 
 Are the sunbeams warm and golden — 
 They would make him purer, better — 
 They would raise him to the sky. 
 
THE ZIITA KII. 33 
 
 All is but a simple problem 
 If you care to understand it ; 
 'Tis addition and subtraction — 
 You may add or take away. 
 Sin and evil — these are nothing 
 But subtractions from your being ; 
 But a good thing — that is something 
 Added to your soul and selfhood. 
 If your passions be the stronger 
 Then be sure your soul is dying — 
 You are losing conscious being 
 In the Being of the All. 
 But, if pure and holy instincts 
 Be the rulers of your spirit, 
 Then be sure your soul is growing 
 To a higher, purer station 
 In the Being of the All! 
 
 Everything seeks for its level — 
 'Tis a universal law. 
 And I tell you— O, I tell you 
 Surely everything shall find it !" 
 
 my brother, my brother 
 Now I write the Songs from Silence. 
 These are what the Spirit whispered 
 In the rustle of the grasses ; 
 In the rolling of the river ; 
 In the rising of the vapors 
 From the glassy river's ripples. 
 These are chants the sunbeams chanted 
 And the dancing sunshine sang me. 
 Over all the face of nature 
 There is written, there is written 
 Truth and light to lead us upward! 
 
34 
 
 THE ZIITA KII. 
 
 Now 1 write the Songs from Silence 
 That the Holy Spirit zuhispered 
 Through the motes that dance in sunshine ; 
 Through the rustle of the grasses ; 
 Through the rolling of the river ; 
 Through the motions of the planets ; 
 Through the songs of autumn insects; 
 Through the blooming of the flower — 
 0, through all things I have heard them! 
 Not my mortal ears that heard them — 
 But the Voice sang to my spirit 
 Who interpreted the chants 
 To my intellect and reason ! 
 
 Now I write, and Thou may 'st judge me, 
 Holy Soul in silence dwelling; 
 Guide my pen to write the truth ! 
 
SONGS FROM SILENCE. 
 
 "I am Soul, from whom all things proceed. 
 And ye can know Me not but through My works, 
 My laws, — and on them I have stamped My word!" 
 
 Cocal Anil's peaks were white 
 In a waning crescent's light, 
 And the autumn insects sang 
 On the prairie Tiivasaang. 
 I, Ahmiina, wandered down 
 To the Nonnds waters brown 
 Where I sat me down to weep 
 And a lonely vigil keep. 
 To my heart a longing came 
 Fierce and burning as a flame : 
 "0, Thou mighty Soul of All 
 Hear my weeping spirit call ! 
 Whisper to my waiting soul 
 Where Thy peaceful waters roll — 
 Whisper to my waiting heart 
 Where to find Thee — where Thou art!" 
 And a whispered answer rose 
 Where the cooling zephyr blows 
 Through the reeds and rushes sear — 
 Whispered to my spirit ear. 
 
36 
 
 SONGS FROM SILENCE. 
 
 "Child of matter — child of spirit 
 Weeping in the mellow moonlight, 
 You who weep and long to know Me,— 
 Go and seek Me, go and seek Me 
 Where My holy laws are written. 
 
 you know not how I love you — 
 How I love you, how I love you ! 
 Come and seek Me, come and seek Me 
 Where My voice is heard forever. 
 
 Lo, I never yet have spoken 
 With a vo ; ce and tongue and language 
 As men speak among each other, — 
 For I have no tongue nor language 
 And I speak not, never— never 
 But in acts and laws and silence! 
 Should you ask if I have spoken 
 In the ages that are ended, 
 
 1 would answer, I would answer: 
 Yea, My silent voice has sounded 
 And My sacred volume open 
 Ever was and ever will be! 
 
 Should you ask Me who can hear Me, 
 I should answer, I should answer: 
 He who thinks and cares to reason 
 Of the holy things around him — 
 He shall hear the Voice of Silence 
 And be guided upward, upward 
 By the tongueless Voice of Nature! 
 Would you ask Me, would you ask Me 
 Who may read the open volume 
 Wherein all My laws are written, 
 I should answer, I should answer: 
 He may read who cares to read it — 
 All is free to him who seeks it ! 
 Let Me tell you, let Me tell you— 
 For I love you — O, I love you ! — 
 
SONGS FROM SILENCE. 37 
 
 On the starry sky is written 
 Countless pages of My volume ; 
 In the desert — in the ocean; 
 In the forest, on the prairie ; 
 In the bowels of the mountains — 
 Everywhere spread out before you 
 Lies My truth unlocked for all ! 
 There is nought but has upon it 
 Prints from My creative fingers — 
 There is nought but has within it 
 Truth to lead you upward to Me! 
 
 So the Holy Heart of All 
 Answered to my spirit call ; 
 But as yet unsatisfied 
 Then my sold looked up and cried : 
 " Thou that loveih me so well 
 Tell me where Thy Soul doth dzvell — 
 For I woidd that I could be 
 Ever in commune with Thee /" 
 And the Spirit answer gave 
 In the glimmer of the wave ; 
 And the twinkle of a star 
 Sang the echo from afar : 
 
 "Mighty space is endless, endless — 
 If not so, what lies beyond it? , 
 
 Can the eye of man e'er measure 
 That which has no bound nor limit — 
 That which ends not never, never, 
 Stretching off in all directions 
 Boundless — boundless, never ending? 
 Ah, no eye can ever pierce it 
 And no mind conceive its limit. 
 Here Ahmiina, — son Ahmiina, 
 Here dwell I, the Silent Spirit, 
 
From whom all things have proceeded. 
 Ask Me not where ye shall find Me — 
 Rather ask Me where I am not! 
 Then Ahmiina, I should answer: 
 There is not that where I am not — 
 For I dwell in All forever — 
 Yea, I fill the All forever!" 
 
 When the Spirit hushed its whisper 
 
 In the silent night. 
 And I only heard the murmur 
 
 Of the zephyrs light, 
 Then my soul arose and cried: 
 "0 Thou All Enwrapping Essence 
 
 From which all things came, 
 Tell — tell me, I beseech Thee, 
 
 What may be Thy name f" 
 
 And I heard the sound of laughter 
 
 Mingled with a sigh, 
 Like the t ustle of dead grasses 
 
 When the winds rush by. 
 0, my spirit shook and trembled 
 And I shrank within a shadow 
 
 Being sore afraid, 
 But the Spirit gave me answer — 
 
 This is what He said : 
 
 "You who ask Me what My name is- 
 Ask Me what My proper name is, 
 I will answer with a question: 
 What are names for, O Ahmiina, 
 That you think perhaps I bear one? 
 Are not names but to distinguish 
 And know one thing from another ? — 
 Since the earth has one moon only 
 
Then no proper name is needed; 
 
 Since one sky and one sky only 
 
 Wraps the world in tints of azure, 
 
 It no proper name is given. 
 
 Now, you know the heathen people 
 
 Worship Me as many beings — 
 
 Hence they must have names to call them 
 
 To distinguish one from others. 
 
 But I tell you — son Ahmiina, 
 
 That no name have I or will have ! 
 
 I am All — the One — the Real, 
 
 Pure Perfection, in whom dwelleth 
 
 All that was or is or will be ! 
 
 By My works shall all things know Me — 
 
 But My name no being knoweth ! 
 
 Lo, I only am the Ruler 
 
 And the Source of All forever !" 
 
 So the All Containing Soul — 
 In whose Being all things roll, — 
 So His silent Spirit. spake 
 Where the withered rushes shake. 
 And I wondering, turned away 
 As the coming king of day 
 Bade the gleaming queen of night 
 Hide behind the mountain hight. 
 
 And 1 sat in the glooms of my cave — 
 All alone in the glooms of my cave 
 When a tempest rushed down the ravine 
 And awoke the mad demons of night. 
 I was sad and I said to my soul: 
 "0 my soul, I am lonely and sad 
 And the tempest destroyeth my thoughts ! 
 my soul, seek communion with Soul 
 And interpret His whispers to me /" 
 So my soul turned away with a smile 
 
40 SON<;s FROM SILENCE. 
 
 And she whispered soft into the gloom : 
 
 "0 Thou holy One dwelling in All, 
 
 We would seek sweet communion with Thee /" 
 
 And a sound like the sigh of the wind 
 
 Then arose in the glooms of my cave, 
 
 And the tones of a musical Voice 
 
 Speaking unto my soul and to me : 
 
 "O My children, darling children 
 Come and hold communion with Me ; 
 Open now your eyes and see Me ; 
 Open now your ears and hear Me ; 
 Open now your minds and know Me 
 For My Soul dwells ever with you — 
 Ever in and all around you ! 
 He that truly dwelleth in Me 
 And in whom I find a dwelling, — 
 He shall never know an ending 
 But may wander, but may wander 
 Through My wide domain forever; 
 And My Spirit shall be with him 
 Even where so e'er he goeth ! 
 Come My children, come and seek Me 
 That you grow like unto Me — 
 He that loves Me — he that loves Me — 
 He that likes to hold communion 
 With My Soul and with My nature, — 
 He shall grow like unto Me ! 
 He that loves Me shall be like Me ■ 
 For association changeth 
 
 Much your minds and thoughts and feelings ! 
 O the man whose friends are evil — 
 How can he be pure and holy ? 
 Think not you can hide your evil 
 From the Awful Eye which seeth 
 All that is and was and will be — 
 
For that Sleepless Soul is in you. 
 Know you not your thoughts and actions 
 And your words and inmost feelings, 
 As the waves upon the ocean 
 Travel from you toward the shore ? 
 But this ocean knows no ending — 
 Knows no surface, bed nor beach ; 
 And the waves upon this ocean — 
 Ah, they travel ever more ! 
 
 "Let Me tell you, let Me tell you— 
 Give, and unto you is given. 
 He that loves is paid in loving 
 Kindness and affection truly ; 
 He that hates is paid in stony 
 Coins of hatefulness and sorrow! 
 Give, and unto you is given ; 
 Take, and from you shall be taken; 
 Lend, and to you shall be lended — 
 Kindness give to every creature 
 And all things are kind to you. 
 Smile, and all the world is smiling ; 
 Weep, and all the world is weeping. 
 Give and take rings through all nature — 
 'Tis a mighty, mighty law — 
 Lo, the law of Compensation ! 
 
 "Should you ask Me whence I started, 
 I, the Holy Soul and Essence, 
 Of all things that were or will be, 
 I would answer, I would answer: 
 Never have I had beginning, 
 Never will I have an ending- — 
 
4~ SONGS FROM SILENCE. 
 
 I am alway and eternal ! 
 
 Lo, I came not, neither go I, 
 
 But I was, I am; I will be! 
 
 I am alway the Perfection, 
 
 The Unchangeable Almighty! 
 
 And My Selfhood— and My Selfhood 
 
 Is the Mystery of Mysteries — 
 
 Is forever and forever 
 
 Inconceivable and silent! — 
 
 Ye may know Me from My actions — 
 
 But My Being, but My Selfhood 
 
 Is inscrutable forever 
 
 And immutable forever! 
 
 Should you ask whence started matter 
 
 And whence cometh all creation — 
 
 All the suns and twinkling planets; 
 
 All the nebulae and comets; 
 
 All the changing constellations 
 
 And the mighty maze of bodies 
 
 Moving through the endless ethers; 
 
 I would answer, I would answer: 
 
 All this emanated from Me — 
 
 Is a manifestation of Me — 
 
 Is a part and portion of Me — 
 
 Was and is and ever will be ! 
 
 I am All, containing all things 
 
 Through the everlasting cycles! 
 
 I am Soul enwrapping all things — 
 
 Permeating cosmos ever; 
 
 And I tell you, and I tell you — 
 
 When your spirit eyes are opened 
 
 You shall see that matter is not: 
 
 All is Soul— for All is of Me— 
 
 Real, holy and eternal ! 
 
 "When you look upon the moonbeams 
 
SONGS FROM SILENCE. 
 
 43 
 
 Dancing in the verdant valleys; 
 Dancing o'er the rolling prairies; 
 Raining o'er the mighty mountains ; 
 Playing o'er the lakes and rivers ; 
 There you see Me — there you see Me — 
 Yet you see Me not nor can you ! 
 Look upon the falling waters 
 Wrapt in veils of swaying vapor; 
 Hear them falling down the mountain — 
 Falling, calling — calling, laughing; 
 There you hear Me — there you hear Me- 
 Yet you hear Me not nor can you ! 
 You may find Me — you may find Me 
 In the bud and bloom of flowers; 
 In the running of cool waters; 
 In the nodding of the grasses; 
 In the perfume of the lilies; 
 In the songs of bird and insect; 
 In the roll of hill and mountain; 
 In the movements of the planets; 
 In the twinkle of the star spheres; 
 In the silent sweep of comets — 
 O, in all things you may find Me : 
 I am Soul, enwrapping all things — 
 Permeating cosmos ever ! 
 
 "Le Me tell you— let Me tell you: 
 There be none who sin against Me — 
 I it is who am unchanging, — 
 I it is who am almighty ; 
 I it is who planned creation — 
 I it is who doth control it ! 
 And I tell you, and I tell you 
 There be none who sin against Me ! 
 All the works of sin and evil 
 Harm Me not nor ever can they ! 
 
44 
 
 SONGS FROM SILENCE. 
 
 But the workers of the evil 
 
 They — ah, they alone will suffer — 
 
 For they sink their spirits deeper 
 
 And yet deeper, and yet deeper, 
 
 Till at last they lose their selfhood 
 
 And their individual beings. 
 
 Good acts serve to strengthen selfhood 
 
 Holiness and purity, these 
 
 Are the showers, dews and sunshine 
 
 To the germs of soul within you ; 
 
 But the soul that doeth evil 
 
 Taketh from its life and being. 
 
 And that soul shall sink forever 
 
 In unconsciousness of selfhood 
 
 To the Holy Heart that gave it! 
 
 'Tis addition and subtraction — 
 
 Though you add or take away 
 
 Still the Sum is never altered ! 
 
 "Would you truly be acquainted 
 With the character of any, 
 You should take them as a study — 
 Notice all their works and actions. 
 Would you wish to know them truly 
 Learn the working of their minds! 
 From the works they leave around them 
 You can judge and know them truly — 
 If their minds are full of evil 
 Then their works are evil also; 
 If their minds are pure and holy 
 Then their works are holy also ! 
 Thought must always precede action 
 And the thought is as the mind is, — 
 Hence, ill comes not from a pure man 
 Nor from evil comes a pure thing! 
 
SONGS FROM SILENCE. 
 
 Would you truly be acquainted 
 With My mind and with it truly, — 
 Look about you — look and reason: 
 All that is I have created 
 Of My Substance, of My Being ; 
 And if these My works are evil 
 Then must I their Source be evil ! 
 For I tell you, for I tell you — 
 As the work is, so the mind is — 
 Thought must always precede action 
 And the thought is as the mind is ! 
 But remember — but remember — 
 If you judge Me by creation 
 Many things will rise before you 
 That may seem like sin and evil ; 
 But, if you will well examine — 
 All things fill a perfect plan ! 
 O believe Me, darling children, 
 For I love you, yes, I love you ! 
 
 "Should you ask Me if I punish 
 Those who break My laws, — My children 
 I should answer, I should answer : 
 There is nothing in all nature 
 That is punishment intended. 
 Pain and trouble comes upon you 
 Not to punish, but remind you 
 That My laws are being broken ; 
 And the greater be the trespass 
 On these holy laws of nature, 
 In proportion then the pain is. 
 Let Me tell you, let Me tell you — 
 For a wilful act of evil 
 Pain or trouble comes upon you 
 As a recompense or payment ; 
 
But, if you unwilful trespass 
 On these holy laws of nature, 
 Pain or trouble comes upon you 
 Not to punish but remind you 
 That My laws are being broken. 
 
 Too much pain destroys the feeling — 
 Watch them lest you suffer often 
 And your nerves forget to tell you, 
 And you lose the good reminder, 
 And you keep on breaking — breaking 
 Laws that were to help you higher ; 
 And at last your soul goes sinking 
 Downward and you lose your being. 
 But, My little children, listen — 
 Though I punish not nor will I, 
 Yet you make My kind reminder 
 Be so stern it seems to punish ; 
 For, the greater be the trespass 
 So the sterner the reminder. 
 
 So the tones of that musical voice 
 Spake unto my soul and to me ; 
 And I know now that musical voice 
 Was the voice of the Ruler of All ! 
 
 So has our lord Ahmiina wrote the songs 
 Or sacred hymns he heard the Spirit sing 
 Through all His mighty works ; and then he sank 
 Upon his pillow and his spirit fled 
 Away in glad delight, to dwell in that 
 Unknown abode where is the Holy Heart. 
 His ashes now are in a golden box 
 Adorned with priceless jewels, in a court 
 
Of Kwatziico the holy temple, in 
 
 The city of Oahlii in the vale 
 
 Of Tchintiipec, — according to his wish. 
 
 I, reader — Tchina Kiida, — 
 I, Ahmiinds loved disciple, 
 I will here append some details 
 That his teaching may be plainer. 
 
 From the mystic sea of Spirit 
 Is all else an emanation — 
 You and I, the earth and planets, 
 Moon and sun, and all creation — 
 These were all evolved from Spirit 
 And are ever more a portion 
 Of that all enwrapping Real. 
 
 Let me tell you, let me tell you : 
 There is truly evolution, 
 Likewise there is devolution. 
 Evolution groweth selfhood : 
 From the One and Single Selfhood 
 Is evolved the myriad beings. 
 There are laws that tend to raise you 
 From unconsciousness of being 
 Into true and real selfhood; 
 These are what we call the good things. 
 But again are other forces, 
 Acts and passions, base desires, 
 Which are ever tending downward 
 From the consciousness of being 
 Into final loss of selfhood, 
 And absorption by the Spirit 
 From which all at first had started ; 
 
48 SONGS FROM SILENCE. 
 
 These arc what we term as evil — 
 Not to God, but to His creatures! 
 
 He whose soul is climbing higher 
 In the stage of conscious being, 
 He has longings to be better; 
 And to him 'tis far more easy 
 To do good things than do evil. 
 But to him whose soul is sinking 
 Backward to the dark oblivion 
 Evil is the stronger power — 
 He is mastered by his passions 
 And his selfish wants and feelings. 
 
 O my brothers, O my brothers, — 
 Look now in your hearts and feelings 
 And there learn if you are rising 
 To the consciousness of selfhood; 
 Or if you are slowly sinking 
 To the loss of soul and selfhood. 
 O, return my brother, turn you — 
 Once you lose your soul and being 
 It is lost forever; — ever ! 
 
 II 
 
 He whose heart is full of sin, 
 Sorrow, trouble, evil, woe, — 
 How may he be brought to buy 
 Purity and peace and joy? 
 Only he can purchase these 
 Who desires them in his heart. 
 You and I can never raise 
 Any from the lower plane — 
 They must raise themselves above 
 
Sorrow, trouble, evil, woe ! 
 
 We may show them where they stand 
 
 And explain a higher plane, 
 
 But each one must for himself 
 
 Overcome his enemies ! 
 
 Ill 
 
 Hold a harp within your hand 
 Tuned in harmony with mine; 
 Strike a cord upon your harp — 
 Mine will answer to that chord ! 
 He whose soul is tuned to sin 
 Lieth in an awful thrall, 
 For his soul vibrates to all 
 Other souls that are in sin. 
 Would you ask me how they may 
 Rise above the power of sin ? 
 Only he can purchase peace 
 Who desires it in his heart! 
 We may show them where they stand 
 And explain a higher plane, 
 But each one must for himself 
 Tune his heart to love, and so 
 Overcome his enemies! 
 He whose heart is tuned to love, 
 Purity and holiness, 
 He will vibrate with those hearts 
 In the states of radiance! 
 He will sound in unison 
 With the Holy Heart of All ! 
 So, O soul, it is with us — 
 Are we tuned to truth or sin ? 
 O remember loving friend 
 When you read these truths divine, 
 We help exercise a power 
 Over all the hearts of men — 
 Do we vibrate good or ill ? 
 
5° 
 
 SONGS FROM SILENCE. 
 
 IV 
 
 We have reason to believe 
 There are sounds to loud and deep 
 For the human ear to hear: 
 Think of all the countless worlds — 
 Planets, suns and nebulae, 
 Moving with tremendous speed 
 Through the endless sea of space! 
 Do the ethers not vibrate 
 From the motions of the spheres ? 
 Ah, what music ! Ah, what songs 
 Ever sing the starry host ! 
 Earth joins in the harmony, 
 With her voice of praise and peace, 
 To the Universal Heart 
 From which all things emanate! 
 
 We have reason to believe 
 There are sounds too low and soft 
 For the human ear to hear : 
 Spirit voices from the realm 
 Where sweet music ever floats ; 
 Where a symphony of bliss 
 Through the ether pulses soft — 
 Praise and glory — chants of peace 
 To the Holy Heart of All 
 Whence all things do emanate ! 
 Think of how the atoms small 
 In their minute orbits sweep ; 
 And the wave that bears the light 
 From the golden King of Day — 
 Do the ethers not vibrate ? 
 Who can say but spirit ears 
 Are sufficiently acute 
 They may hear the atoms small 
 In their minute orbits sweep ? 
 
Who can say but spirit ears 
 Are sufficiently acute 
 They may hear the waves of light 
 Falling from the golden sun ? 
 
 V 
 
 O my brother ! — have you thought 
 Every motion, thought or word, — 
 Good or bad, and great or small 
 Makes an impulse which is felt 
 Through the endless Universe ? 
 
 my brother ! — have you thought 
 These impulses have effect 
 
 Good or bad forever more? 
 Is an impulse which is felt 
 Through the endless universe ? 
 
 VI 
 
 As the sensitive can tell 
 What is passing silently 
 In some other person's mind — 
 As our thought impressions flow 
 From us to the sensitive, 
 Then may not impressions flow 
 From the All Enwrapping Mind 
 To the minds of us below ? 
 Ah, my brother ! here is that 
 
 1 would have you dwell upon. 
 
 VII 
 
 He who holds the will is free — 
 He within his heart rebels ! 
 There is One Will only free — 
 'Tis the Mighty Will of All ! 
 All the other wills are bound 
 By the chains of circumstance. 
 It is not for me to say 
 
52 
 
 SONGS FROM SILENCE. 
 
 I am free to do my will ! 
 
 He who places all his trust 
 
 In the Holy Will of All— 
 
 He whose heart and mind is pure 
 
 He indeed is free to do 
 
 What so e'er he wills to do ! 
 
 For the tide of circumstance 
 
 In the end works for the best. 
 
 VIII 
 
 He who prays indeed rebels 
 For he knoweth not the best. 
 Not for me to bend the knee 
 And implore the Holy Heart f 
 Better far to put your trust — 
 An implicit love and trust 
 In the Holy Heart of All : 
 Knowing all must needs to be 
 Working to His holy plan ! 
 Not for me to bend the knee 
 And implore the Holy Heart — 
 Let me trust undoubtingly 
 That great alcontaining Soul 
 Of which I am but a part — 
 But a minute practicle! 
 We were never given tongues 
 With which to explain to Him 
 How His plan must be fulfilled ; 
 For, you honor Him the more 
 If you have in Him — the Soul, 
 An implicit confidence 
 And undoubting love and trust! 
 Should the vapors rise and say 
 Where the wind should carry it ? 
 Then I fear some parts of earth 
 Oft would thirst for dew and rain. 
 
Let me only bend the knee — 
 Not to suplicate nor pray — 
 But to pour my hearty thanks 
 Unto Him who is the All 
 And the Soul and Heart of All ! 
 
 IX 
 
 He who thinks forgiveness 
 Takes away all pain, 
 
 Let him watch and ponder 
 When he errs again. 
 
 O, Thou Ever Present, 
 Will men never learn 
 
 That Thy perfect justice 
 Gives men all they earn? 
 
 If men plow and scatter 
 Seeds of evil, lust, — 
 
 Sorrow, pain and trouble 
 Springeth from the dust. 
 
 O, my erring brothers, 
 Life is like a field: 
 
 What you plant within it — 
 That the earth will yield. 
 
 Sow the seeds of kindness, 
 Love and holiness, 
 
 And the crop shall ripen 
 Richer than you guess ! 
 
 But, O dearest brother, 
 If the seeds you sow 
 
 Be selfishness and evil, 
 You shall reap of woe. 
 
54 
 
 SONGS FROM SILENCE. 
 
 Justice, holy justice, 
 Ever must be stern, — 
 
 Changes not for any, 
 
 Gives men what they earn. 
 
 Put your hand in fire 
 
 Then kneel down and pray — 
 Will repentance save you, — 
 
 Take the pain away? 
 
 In the field of being 
 Sow contention, tears; 
 
 You shall reap contention 
 Through the coming years ! 
 
 O, remember brother, 
 
 Repentance changeth not 
 
 That the earth produces 
 For the sowers lot. 
 
 Though repentance changeth 
 
 Not the ills of life, 
 Yet it helps you bear them 
 
 Through the after strife. 
 
 Yes, it makes you stronger, 
 
 Gives a better will ; 
 And if used correctly 
 
 Helps you bear your ill. 
 
 Hear the Spirit whisper : 
 "If you wrong another, 
 
 Go and ask his pardon — 
 Be indeed his brother. 
 
 "Nature too forgives you 
 When you make amends 
 
 By taking better care of 
 The good gifts she sends." 
 
Memory is that that keeps 
 Silent record of all things 
 In the mystic halls of brain. 
 All you see or hear or think, 
 All you do or say or wish 
 On your memory is wrote ; — 
 In proportion to their strength 
 In your character they act. 
 Recollection is the act 
 Of the consciousness to read 
 From the page of memory. 
 Some declare that memory 
 Keepeth record of all things, — 
 What if you could recollect 
 All that you had seen or heard, 
 Done or wished or thought or said? 
 What if all this could arise, 
 Would the good predominate 
 Or the evil things be more? 
 Ah, remember everything 
 In proportion to its strength 
 On your, character will act. 
 Soft the zephyr passes o'er 
 Walls of marble, granite, brick ; 
 Soft the particles of mist 
 Beat upon a palace wall. 
 O my my brother, soft they beat 
 But they slowly wear away 
 Proudest monuments of man! 
 In your memory there are 
 Many prints so delicate 
 Recollection tries in vain 
 That your consciousness should read ; 
 But, — O brother, they have past — 
 Though unconsciously to you — 
 
In the growth or death of soul. 
 And, remember — do not think 
 That because you cannot read 
 What is graved on memory 
 It is safe from every eye — 
 There is One — the Mighty Mind, 
 He beholds and knows it all. 
 Does He judge you ? — no indeed ! 
 Though that Silent Soul may know 
 All within that judgment book, 
 Yet He judges not nor will 
 For He knows you judge yourself 
 In each word and thought and act! 
 
 XI 
 
 O the beauty of the earth 
 Robed in colors rich and fair, — 
 Waving greens, a thousand shades 
 'Neath the changing blue above. 
 See the dew drop like a gem 
 Glitters in the morning sun, 
 Mocks the star that fades away 
 In the crown of dying night. 
 But the blind man cannot see 
 Nor can understand the talk 
 Of his comrade, who enjoys 
 Visions of green fields and woods ; 
 Beds of flowers; graceful forms; 
 Skies where glitter in the night 
 Endless sweeps of silent stars — 
 Stars a million times as great 
 As this little world of ours. 
 Though the blind man cannot see, 
 They exist and are indeed. 
 
 O the man who never heard 
 
SONGS FROM SILENCE. 
 
 Music, music soft and sweet! 
 He whose ears are dead to sound 
 Knoweth not the mystic touch 
 Of sweet music's harmony. 
 Though the; deaf man cannot hear, — 
 Though he cannot understand, — 
 Sounds exist and are indeed. 
 
 O my brother, there are those 
 Who can see and hear and feel 
 Things 'twere vain for you and I 
 In our present state to wish 
 We may ever know or feel. 
 Yet I ask you is it well 
 We should doubt and laugh at him 
 Who declares that he can see' 
 Things we cannot hope to see? — 
 Who declares that he can hear 
 Things we cannot hope to hear ? 
 
 XII 
 
 Yesterday I heard a voice 
 Saying sadly, saying soft : 
 "Is there an eternity? — 
 Was there never once a time 
 When there was not anything — 
 Will there never come a time 
 When the nothing swallows all?" 
 O, that poor deluded soul 
 Building fear on nothingness ! 
 Now is the eternity — 
 Ever was it, e'er will be. 
 Ah, my brother, if you build 
 On the now that never is — 
 On the present which is not, 
 Then your dreams are all in vain. 
 
58 
 
 SONGS FROM SILENCE. 
 
 Present is not, never was — 
 All is future or is past. 
 Now, is but the line where meets 
 An eternal future, past; 
 There is not a mind so great 
 Truly can conceive of Now. — 
 Ah, my brother, time is not 
 But the roll of earth in space ; 
 Past and future always are 
 But the present never is. 
 Build not on the flying line 
 Where the future meets the past,- 
 'Tis delusion, all a dream, 
 Only is eternity — 
 Everlasting evermore. 
 
 XIII 
 
 O my Father, I would join 
 In the chorus of the spheres — 
 I would add my feeble voice 
 In a chant of praise to Thee! 
 Not that I suppose Thou need'st 
 Praise or glory, songs or thanks; 
 Not that I suppose it right 
 As may duty so to sing — 
 For no duty do I owe 
 Him who made me that I might 
 Fill a place among His plans. 
 But I feel that I must sing 
 Being full of love and Thee ; 
 And my happy heart looks up 
 In an ecstasy of joy! 
 
HYMN TO SOUL 
 
 HYMN TO SOUL. 
 
 Soul! — O Thou sublime Eternal! — 
 Thou who knoweth not of ending 
 Nor beginning nor of limits 
 Nor of times nor measured cycles ! 
 Thou! — the Perfect in Perfection — 
 Mystic, holy, all enwrapping. 
 O we praise Thee ! — O we praise Thee ! 
 Sing, O sons of men and praise Him ! 
 Sing, O green things, sing and praise Him ! 
 Sing, O waters, sing and praise Him ! 
 Sing, O world, — O sing and praise Him 
 In whose Soul thou art revolving — 
 In whose Being is thy being — 
 Of whose very Soul and Essence 
 Art thou — art thou everlasting ! 
 Thou alone, O Soul hast Being! 
 Thou alone indeed art Real ! — 
 O, unsearchable Almighty 
 Let us praise Thee — let us praise Thee! 
 
THOU ALL! 
 
 Endless praises — endless praises 
 Sing the spheres that sweep the skies — 
 Endless praises — endless praises 
 Must forever more arise! 
 Suns and planets, moons and comets 
 In their awful orbits move — 
 Singing, singing, ever singing: 
 "We obey the law of Love !" 
 Bend your ear O yearning brother — 
 Listen to the singing grass; 
 Tis the song all men are seeking 
 But they do not hear — alas ! 
 
 "We obey the One Perfection — 
 Know no life but One forever! 
 Changing, changing, still advancing 
 Yet we reach the Perfect — never! 
 Laugh! — O sunbeam, glorious, golden, 
 Dancing where you flit and fall ! — 
 Laugh ! ye rocks among the mountains 
 For you are a part of All ! 
 Lichens, mosses, grasses, insects, 
 Animals and men aspire 
 For the stages yet beyond them — 
 For a being that is higher. 
 Upward, upward, never ending, 
 
Working out the Plan of life — 
 To the eye that understands not 
 Seeming like an endless strife! 
 All is unison and patience--^ 
 'Tis the working of the God! 
 All enwrapping Soul of wonder 
 We adore Thee from the sod!" 
 
 Would you ask for joy and pleasure 
 You must learn to sacrifice — 
 There is nothing in creation 
 You may scorn or dare dispise ! 
 All is love — one love and family 
 And Soul the Parent true — 
 What -He bids, O listning brother — 
 What He asks of you — do! 
 Holy Soul in silence dwelling, 
 Thou whom we adore — 
 Endless praises ever to Thee 
 Sound forever more! 
 Solids, liquids, passes, spirits, 
 Sacrifice themselves to Thee ! 
 O, Thou mighty Allcontaining 
 Endless may Thy praises be ! 
 
 Where the lonely forest stretches 
 In the wild, primeval manner — 
 Over mountains rough and rockey, 
 Over notches and deep valleys, 
 There I love to seek and know Thee 
 O Thou mystic, holy Real ! 
 Where the fern frond waving, waving 
 Catches at its laughing shadow, 
 There I meet Thy brooding Spirit 
 O Thou Source and Soul of All! 
 
62 THOU ALL. 
 
 O glory, glory, glory be 
 To Thee, Thou Holy Heart of All ! 
 And let creation worship Thee — 
 For Thou art holiest of all ! 
 
 ~M) FINIS. 
 
 ~^2*cy^