grain that is
the bread of man, chanting the hymn used at seed-time, calling on the
mother earth to make the green herb spring, and on Ukko to send down
clouds and rain. So the corn sprang, and the golden cuckoo--which in
Finland plays the part of the popinjay in Scotch ballads, or of the
three golden birds in Greek folk-songs--came with his congratulations.
In regard to the epithet 'golden,' it may be observed that gold and
silver, in the Finnish epic, are lavished on the commonest objects of
daily life.

This is a universal note of primitive poetry, and is not a peculiar
Finnish idiom, as M. Leouzon le Duc supposes; nor, as Mr. Tozer seems
to think, in his account of Romaic ballads, a trace of Oriental
influence among the modern Greeks. It is common to all the ballads of
Europe, as M. Ampere has pointed out, and may be observed in the
'Chanson de Roland,' and in Homer.

While the corn ripened, Waeinaemoeinen rested from his labours, and took
the task of Orpheus. 'He sang,' says the 'Kalevala,' of the origin of
things, of the mysteries hidden from babes, that none may attain to in
this sad life, in the hours of these perishable days. The fame of the
Runoia's singing excited jealousy in the breast of one of the men
around him, of whose origin the 'Kalevala' gives no account. This man,
Joukahainen, provoked him to a trial of song, boasting, like
Empedocles, or like one of the old Celtic bards, that he had been all
things. 'When the earth was made I was there; when space was unrolled
I launched the sun on his way.' Then was Waeinaemoeinen wroth, and by the
force of his enchantment he rooted Joukahainen to the ground, and
suffered him not to go free without promising him the hand of his
sister Aino. The mother was delighted; but the girl wept that she must
now cover her long locks, her curls, her glory, and be the wife of
'the old imperturbable Waeinaemoeinen.' It is in vain that her mother
offers her dainty food and rich dresses; she flees from home, and
wanders till she meets three maidens bathing, and joins them, and is
drowned, singing a sad song: 'Ah, never may my sister come to bathe in
the sea-water, for the drops of the sea are the drops of my blood.'
This wild idea occurs in the Romaic ballad, ~he kore taxideutria~,
where a drop of blood on the lips of the drowned girl tinges all the
waters of the world. To return to the fate of Aino. A swift hare runs
(as in the Zulu legend of the Origin of Death) with the tale