And the people of the left hand-how wretched
The people of the left hand!

And they who were foremost on earth

The foremost still.

These are they who shall be brought nigh to God,
In gardens of delight,

On inwrought couches, reclining face to face.
Immortal youths go round about to them,

With goblets and ewers and a cup from a fountain;
Their brows ache not from it, nor fails the sense;
And with such fruits as they shall make choice of,
And with flesh of such birds as they shall long for;
And theirs shall be the Houris with large, dark eyes,
Like close-kept pearls,

And the people of the right hand-how happy

The people of the right hand!

Amid thornless love-trees,

And bananas clad with flowers,

And extended shade, and flowing waters,

And abundant fruits, unfailing and unforbidden.

But the people of the left hand-how wretched
Shall be the people of the left hand!

Amid pestilential winds and in scalding water,
And the shadow of a black smoke,

Not cooling and not pleasant.

Then verily ye, O ye the erring, the imputers of falsehood, Shall surely eat of the tree Zakkoum!

DHOULKARNAIN.

THE

[From the Korân.]

[Dhoulkarnain is probably Alexander the Great.]

HEY will ask thee of Dhoulkarnain [the two-horned]. Say:
I will recite to you an account of him.

Verily he established his power upon the earth, and we gave him a means to accomplish every end, as he followed his way,

Until when he reached the setting of the sun, he found it to set in a miry fount; and hard by he found a people.

We said: “O Dhoulkarnain ! whether thou chastise or whether thou treat them generously "

"As for him who is impious," said he, "we will chastise him; then shall he be taken back to his lord, and he will chastise him with a grievous chastisement."

Then followed he a route, until when he reached the rising of the sun, he found it to rise on a people to whom we had given no shelter from it.

Thus it was. were in the sun.

And he had full knowledge of the forces that

Then followed he a route, until he came between two mountains, beneath which he found a people who scarce understood a language.

They said: "O Dhoulkarnain! verily, Gog and Magog waste this land; shall we then pay the tribute, so thou build a rampart between us and thou?"

He said: "Better than your tribute is the might wherewith my Lord hath strengthened me; but help me strenuously, and I will set a barrier between you and them. Bring me blocks of iron."

Until when it filled the space between the mountain-sides— "Blow," said he, "upon it." Until when he had set it on fire, he said: "Bring me molten brass, that I may pour upon it."

And Gog and Magog were not able to scale it, neither were they able to dig through it.

"This," said he, "is a mercy from my Lord. But when the threat of my Lord cometh to pass, He will turn it to dust, and the threat of my Lord is a truth."

THE LEGEND OF AINO.

[From the " Kalevala."]

Translated by JOHN A. PORTER.

N the plains of Kalevala,

ON

On the prairies of Wainola,
Chanting ever wondrous legends,
Full of old-time wit and wisdom,
Wainamoinen, ancient minstrel,
Passed his days in sweet contentment.
All the day long sang the minstrel,
Often into dusky evening;

Now the tales of ancient heroes,
Legends of the time forgotten,
Now the story of creation.

Far and wide the tidings travelled,
Far away men heard the story
Of the chant of Wainamoinen,
Of this song of mighty hero;
Far to southward flew the echo,
Heart of Northland heard and listened.

There in dim and dusky Northland
Lived the singer Youkahainen,
Lapland's young and fiery minstrel.
One day feasting with his fellows
Came unto his ears the whisper,
On the meadows of Wainola,
On the meads of Kalevala,

m

They could boast a sweeter singer,
Better skilled to chant a legend,
Better far than Youkahainen,
Or the ancient one that taught him.
Thereupon the bard grew wrathful,
Envy swelled the minstrel's bosom,
Envy of this Wainamoinen
Famed to be so rare a singer.
Stormful, hastes he to his mother,
Vows that he will hie him northward,
Hasten northward and betake him
To the cabins of Wainola,
There as bard to offer battle,

There to strive with Wainamoinen.

Hot breath steaming from his nostrils,
From his hoofs bright flashes gleaming;
Bridles swift the fiery charger,
To the golden runners links him;
Leaps into the sledge impetuous,
Springs upon the hindmost settle,
Fiercely strikes the fiery stallion
With his pearl-enamelled birch-rod.
And the sledge now gayly springing,
Sallies swiftly on his journey.
On he plunges, restless, northward,
All day long from noon till evening,
All day long, the next day, northward,
So the third from dawn till twilight,
Till the third day evening brings him
To Wainola's peaceful meadows,
To the plains of Kalevala.

So it chanced that Wainamoinen Rode that evening on the highway, Peacefully for pasture gliding Down the meadows of Wainola, O'er the plains of Kalevala.

Forward comes the fiery stripling Urging still his hot blood stallion, Dashing down upon the minstrel, Till they meet in fierce collision.

Then the minstrel boldly cries out :
"Say, who art thou? Stupid fellow!
Coming, dashing down the highway,
Crazily thy stallion urging,
Striking me in fierce encounter.
Let me know, thou stupid fellow,

Who thou art and whence thou comest."

Then the stripling boldly answered: