Xiii

"Glorious Hapi," spake Piromis, Lifting high his weapon'd hand; "Earth thy footstool, heaven thy dome is, We the pebbles on thy strand.

"Thou hast leaped the cubits twenty, Dowering us with peace and plenty; Mutha shows thee her retreat, And the desert licks thy feet,

"We have passed through our purgation, Once again we are thy kin; God, accept our expiation, Maiden pure of mortal sin."