Page:The Incas of Peru.djvu/129

Rh They all arrive At their destined ends, Whithersoever thou pleasest. Thy royal sceptre Thou holdest. Oh hear me! Oh choose me! Let it not be That I should tire, That I should die.

One of the hymns is composed as from an aged Inca on his death-bed praying for light and for a knowledge of the Deity.

O creator of men, Thy servant speaks, Then look upon him, Oh, have remembrance of him, The King of Cuzco. I revere you, too, Tarapaca. O Tonapa, look down, Do not forget me. O thou noble Creator, O thou of my dreams, Dost thou already forget, And I on the point of death? Wilt thou ignore my prayer, Or wilt thou make known Who thou art? Thou mayst be what I thought, Yet perchance thou art a phantom, A thing that causes fear.