_Here begins the first scroll with the sign of a bundle of reeds tied about with a string, which is the symbol of fifty-two years._ In Anahuac there reigned a king Some fifty summers old, The bloody darling of his gods, Who sent him luck and gold And captives from a thousand fights, And victory in each war; No mercy kept within his heart-- He trusted in his star. But doubts began to sap his mind, For he was growing old. The gods he feared might turn unkind; He gave them plundered gold And hung their images with hearts Like roses on a bride, And all the young slaves from the marts On Huitzil's altars died.[1] The priests got everything they sought. They said the gods were wroth; They had the…
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