ALCOVE I (continued 2)

Around the square the palms and cedars shine, And bowers of roses cluster round divine. Beneath an arch of myrtles, climbing vines, And canopy,—with wreathing flowers it shines, There stands a wondrous garland-wreathèd throne, Where maids are gathered;—each unmarried one. The timid maids and bold of Babylon Are each in turn led to the rosy throne; The crowd of bidders round the herald stand, The richest and the poorest of the land.

The queen of Accad's maids doth now appear, We see the burnished chariot coming near, Ten beauteous bays with proud steps, nodding plumes Come first; behind, a train of nobles comes; And now we see the close-drawn canopy Thrown back by slaves, who step aside, that she The queen of beauty crowned with lilies, rose, May here alight. And see! she queenly goes With dainty steps between the noblemen, Who stand on either side the queen Of beauty of the plains, who first this day Shall reign upon the throne, and lead the way For all the maids who shall be bought for gold, And thus the first upon the throne is sold.

She takes her seat beneath the canopy, Upon the throne high raised, that all may see; As she her veil of fine spun gold flings back From her sweet face and o'er her ringlets black, Her large dark eyes, soft as a wild gazelle's, Upon the richest nobles dart appeals. Her bosom throbs 'neath gems and snowy lace, And robes of broidered satin, velvets, grace Her beauty with their pearly folds that fall Around her form.

Hark! hear the herald's call! "Behold this pearl! my lords and noblemen, And who will bid for her as wife, my men?" "Ana-bilti khurassi ash at ka!"[11] "Akhadu khurassi ana sa-sa!"[12] "U sinu bilti khurassi!"[11] two cried. "Sal-sutu bilti!"[12] nobles three replied; And four, and five, and six, till one bid ten, A vast amount of gold for noblemen:

But see! the bidders in excitement stand Around a youth who cries with lifted hand And features pale and stern, who now began To bid against a wealthy nobleman, Whose countless herds graze far upon the plain, His laden ships that ride upon the main He counts by scores. He turns his evil eyes And wolfish face upon the youth and cries, "Khamisserit!"[13] The lover answering says: "Esra'a!"[14] "U selasa'a!"[15] then brays The gray-haired lover. "U irbaha!"[16] cries The youth, and still the nobleman defies; Who answers cooly, "Khausa'a;"[17] and eyes The anxious youth, who wildly "Miha!"[18] cries. "Mine! mine! she is! though you alapu[19] bid!" "A fool thou art!" the noble, leaving, said. "One hundred talents for a maid!" he sneered, And in the crowd he growling disappeared. The measures filled with shining gold are brought, And thus the loveliest of all is bought.

The next in beauty on the throne is sold, And thus the beautiful are sold for gold. The richest thus select the beautiful, The poor must take alone the dutiful And homely with a dower which beauty bought, And ugliness with gold becomes his lot. The ugliest, unsightly, and deformed, Is now brought forth; with many wriggles squirmed She to the throne, where beauty late had sat: Her ugliness distorted thus; whereat The herald cries: "Who will this woman take With smallest dowry? She can cook and bake, And many household duties well perform, Although she does not claim a beauty's charm. Who wants a wife?" The ugly crone with blinks Doth hideous look, till every bidder shrinks. A sorry spectacle, mis-shapen, gross, She is, and bidders now are at a loss How much to ask to take the hag to wife. At last one cries: "Five bilti,[20] for relief Of herald I will take, to start the bid!" "And four of bilti, I'll take, with the maid!" "Three and a half!" one cries with shaking head, "And she is yours, my man!" the herald said, And thus she bought a husband and a home.

And so the scare-crows, scraggy ones, now come In turn; the lean, ill-favored, gawky, bald, Long-nosed, uncouth, raw-boned, and those with scald And freckled, frowsy, ricketty and squat, The stumpy, bandy-leggèd, gaunt, each bought A man; though ugly as a toad, they sold, For every man with her received his gold. The heaped-up gold which beauteous maids had brought Is thus proportioned to the bidder's lot; The grisly, blear-eyed, every one is sold, And husbands purchased for a pile of gold, And happiness diffused throughout the land; For when the maid refused her husband's hand She might return by paying back the gold. And every maid who thus for wife was sold Received a bond from him who purchased her, To wed her as his wife, or else incur The forfeit of his bond, and thus no maids In all the land were found as grumbling jades, Whose fate it was to have no husbandman, For every woman had a husband then.

[Footnote 1: We have included in Tablet IV Tablets V and VI of the original, as classified by Mr. Sayce.]

[Footnote 2: The above is taken from an Assyrian fragment ("W.A.I.," ii. 35, No. 4) translated in "Records of the Past," vol. xi., pp. 159, 160, and presents the Assyrian view of purity and the customs of their people.]

[Footnote 3: Literally, "whose veil no freeman of pure race has raised." Before slaves and men of mean rank, women of the East are not obliged to veil the face.]

[Footnote 4: Literally, "who has never moistened her teeth with an intoxicating liquor." "Rec. of the Past," p. 160, l. 6.]

[Footnote 5: The public sale herein described is taken from the statement of Herodotus (see Herodotus, vol. i., p. 196. Compare "Nic. Dam. Fr.," 131, and Ælian. "Var. Hist.," iv. 1), who says all the marriageable virgins in all the towns of the empire or kingdom were sold at public auction. The beautiful maidens were sold to the highest bidder, and the proceeds were deposited before the herald. The ugly maidens in turn were then put up, and the bidders were called upon to take them as wives with the smallest dowry to be paid from the proceeds of the sales of the beautiful maids, and they were in turn awarded to those who would accept them with the smallest amount as dowry. The numerous contracts for the sales of women now in the British Museum may possibly be records of these transactions.]

[Footnote 6: "Sab-at-tu," a day of rest for the heart ("W.A.I.," ii. 32), the Sabbath day, which was dedicated to the worship of the sun, moon, and stars, and their gods, which were known by different names.]

[Footnote 7: "Lain," to lay, v.a. (pretr. "laid," part, passive "lain," from "liggan," Sax.), "to place along the ground."—Fenning's Royal Eng. Dic., London, MDCLXXV.]

[Footnote 8: From the Babylonian Festival Calendar ("C.I.W.A.," vol. iv., pls. 32, 33); also translated in "Records of the Past," vol. vii., pp. 162, 163.]

[Footnote 9: "Zubat," robes.]

[Footnote 10: "Ku-bar-ra," linen robes.]

[Footnote 11: "And two golden talents!"]

[Footnote 12: "Three talents!"]

[Footnote 13: "Fifteen!"]

[Footnote 14: "Twenty!"]

[Footnote 15: "And thirty!"]

[Footnote 16: "And forty!"]

[Footnote 17: "Fifty!"]

[Footnote 18: "One hundred!"]

[Footnote 19: "One thousand!"]

[Footnote 20: "Five bilti," about £3,165 sterling, or $15,825.]

COLUMN II

COUNCIL IN THE PALACE

The seers on silver couches round the throne; The hangings of the carved lintel thrown Aside; the heralds cried: "The Sar! The Sar! The council opens our King Izdubar!" The Sar walked o'er the velvets to his throne Of gold inlaid with gems. A vassal prone Before the Sar now placed the stool of gold, Arranged his royal robes with glittering fold Of laces, fringes rich inwove with pearls, Embroidered with quaint figures, curious twirls. Behind the throne a prince of royal blood Arrayed in courtly splendor, waiting stood, And gently waved a jewelled fan aloft Above the Sar's tiara; carpets soft From Accad's looms the varied tilings bright, In tasteful order, part conceal from sight.

The glittering pillars stand with gold o'erlaid In rows throughout the room to the arcade, Within the entrance from a columned hall. The ivory-graven panels on the wall On every side are set in solid gold. The canopy chased golden pillars hold Above the throne, and emeralds and gems Flash from the counsellor's rich diadems. In silence all await the monarch's sign: "This council hath been called, the hour is thine To counsel with thy King upon a plan Of conquest of our foes, who ride this plain, Unchecked around; these Suti should be driven From Sumir's plain. Have ye our wrongs forgiven? Khumbaba hath enjoyed great Accad's spoils Too long; with him we end these long turmoils. What sayest thou, Heabani?—all my seers? Hath Accad not her chariots and spears?"

Then one among the wisest seers arose "To save our precious tune which hourly flows, He should our seer, Rab-sak-i[1] first invite To lay his plans before the Sar, and light May break across our vision. I confess Great obstacles I see, but acquiesce In any plan you deem may bring success. The gods, I feel our cause will gladly bless." Another spoke, and all agree at last To hear the seer whose wisdom all surpassed.

Heabani modestly arose and said, And gracefully to all inclined his head: "O Sar! thy seer will gladly counsel give To thee, and all our seers; my thanks receive For thy great confidence in my poor skill To crush our foes who every country fill. I with the Sar agree that we should strike A blow against the rival king, who like Our Sar, is a great giant king, and lives Within a mountain castle, whence he grieves All nations by his tyranny, and reigns With haughty power from Kharsak to these plains. I'll lead the way, my Sar, to his wild home; 'Tis twenty kas-pu[2] hence, if you will come. A wall surrounds his castle in a wood, With brazen gates strong fastened. I have stood Beneath the lofty pines which dwindle these To shrubs that grow in parks as ornate trees. The mighty walls will reach six gars[3] in height, And two in breadth, like Nipur's[4] to the sight. And when you go, take with you many mules; With men to bring the spoils, and needed tools To break the gates, his castle overthrow: To lose no time, to-morrow we should go. To Erech, pines and cedars we can bring With all the wealth of Elam's giant king, And Erech fill with glorious parks and halls, Remove these man-u-bani,[5] ruined walls. Take to your hearts, ye seers, poor Erech's wrongs! Her fall, the bards of Elam sing in songs. I love dear Erech, may her towers shine!" He seized his harp, thus sung the seer divine:

"O Erech! thy bright plains I love; Although from thee thy seer did rove, My heart remained with thee! The foe destroyed thy beauteous towers, Sa-mu forgot to rain her showers, And could I happy be?

Mine eyes beheld thy fallen gates, Thy blood warm flowing in thy streets, My heart was broken then. I raised mine eyes and saw thy Sar In glory on his steed of war, And joy returned again!

I saw the foe in wild dismay Before him flee that glorious day. With joy I heard the cry Of victory resound afar, Saw Elam crushed 'neath Accad's car: I shouted, Victory!

Away! till birds of prey shall rend His flesh and haughty Elam bend Before our mighty Sar! Beneath his forest of pine-trees The battle-cry then loudly raise, We follow Izdubar!

And may the birds of prey surround Khumbaba stretched upon the ground, Destroy his body there! And Izdubar alone be king, And all his people joyful sing, With glory crown him here!

All hail! All hail! our giant King, The amaranti[6] for him bring, To crown him, crown him here, As King of Accad and Sutu, And all the land of Subar-tu! So sayeth Hea's seer!"

The counsellors and chieftains wildly cry Around the throne, "All hail izzu sar-ri Of Su-bar-tu!" and shouting leave the halls To summon Accad's soldiers from the walls To hear the war proclaimed against their foes, And Accad's war-cry from them loud arose. King Izdubar Heabani warmly prest Within his arms upon his throbbing breast, And said, "Let us to the war temple go, That all the gods their favor may bestow." The seer replied, "Tis well! then let us wend Our way, and at the altar we will bend,— To Ishtar's temple, where our goddess queen Doth reign, seek her propitious favor, then In Samas' holy temple pray for aid To crush our foe;—with glory on each blade, Our hands will carry victory in war." The chiefs, without the temple, join their Sar.

[Footnote 1: "Rab-sak-i," chief of the high ones, chief of the seers and counsellors; prime minister.]

[Footnote 2: "Twenty kaspu," 140 miles; each kaspu was seven miles, or two hours' journey.]

[Footnote 3: "Six gars," 120 feet; each gar was a twenty-foot measure. Khumbaba's walls were thus 120 feet high and forty feet thick—much like the walls of Babylon.]

[Footnote 4: "Nipur" was one of the cities of Izdubar's kingdom, from whence he came to the rescue of Erech.]

[Footnote 5: "Man-u-ban-i," a tree or shrub of unpleasant odor mentioned by Heabani. See Sayce's revised edition Smith's "Chald. Acc. of Genesis," p. 254. The fragment translated by Mr. Sayce should be placed in another position in the epic.]

[Footnote 6: "Amaranti," amaranth. "Immortal amaranth."—"Par. Lost."]

COLUMN III

THE KING WORSHIPS AT THE SHRINE OF ISHTAR

[1]The richest and the poorest here must stay, Each proud or humble maid must take her way; To Ishtar's temple grand, a lofty shrine, With youth and beauty seek her aid divine. Some drive in covered chariots of gold, With courtly trains come to the temple old. With ribbons on their brows all take their seats, The richer maid of nobles, princes, waits Within grand chambers for the nobler maids; The rest all sit within the shrine's arcades. Thus fill the temple with sweet beauties, crones; The latest maids are the most timid ones.

In rows the maidens sat along the halls And vestibules, on couches, where the walls Were carved with mystic signs of Ishtar's feast; Till at the inner shrine the carvings ceased. Amid the crowd long silken cords were strung To mark the paths, and to the pillows clung. The King through the great crowd now pressed his way Toward the inner shrine, where he may pray. The jewelled maidens on the cushioned seats, Now babbling hailed the King, and each entreats For sacred service, silver or of gold, And to him, all, their sweetest charms unfold. Some lovely were, in tears besought and cried, And many would a blooming bride provide; While others were deformed and homely, old, As spinsters still remained, till now grown bold, They raised their bony arms aloft and bawled. Some hideous were with harshest voices squalled, And hags like dal-khi from the Under-World, Their curses deep, growled forth from where they curled. But these were few and silent soon became, And hid their ugliness away in shame. For years some maids had waited day and night, But beauty hides the ugly ones from sight.

The King astounded, eyed them seated round; Beneath their gaze his eyes fell to the ground. "And hath great Accad lost so many sons, And left so many maids unmarried ones?" He eyed the image where the goddess stood Upon a pedestal of cedar wood O'erlaid with gold and pearls and uk-ni stones, And near it stands the altar with its cones Of gold adorned with gems and solid pearls,— And from the golden censer incense curls. Beside the altar stands a table grand Of solid metal carved with skilful hand; Upon it stands a mass of golden ware, With wines and fruits which pious hands prepare. The walls are glistening with gold and gems, The priestesses all wear rich diadems. The Sar now eyes the maidens, while they gaze; Thus they expectant wait, while he surveys. And see! he takes from them a charming girl With Ishtar's eyes and perfect form, the pearl Of beauty of them all; turns to the shrine, When in her lap he drops a golden coin, And says, "The goddess Ishtar, prosper thee!"[2] She springs, for she from Ishtar's halls is free, And kneels and weeps before the monarch's feet, "O great and mighty Sar I thee entreat, My will is thine, but all my sisters free: Behold my sisters here imploring thee!" The King gazed at the beauteous pleading face, Which roused within his breast the noble race Before her heavenly charms transfixed he stood. Before her heavenly charms transfixed he stood.

"'Tis well! my daughter, I the favor grant!" And to the priestess said, "Let here be sent Great coffers filled with gold! for I release These maids. Let all their weary waiting cease, The price I'll send by messengers to thee." And all rejoicing sing a psalmody. A ring of maidens round the image forms; With flashing eyes they sing, with waving arms, A wilderness of snowy arms and feet, To song and dance the holy measure beat; A mass of waving ringlets, sparkling eyes. In wildest transport round each maiden flies, The measure keeps to sacred psalmody, With music ravishing,—sweet melody. The priestess leads for them the holy hymn, Thus sing they, measure keep with body, limb:

[3]"Let length of days, long lasting years, With sword of power, extend his holy life! With years extended full of glory, shine, Pre-eminent above all kings in strife. Oh, clothe our king, our lord, with strength divine, Who with such gifts to gods appears!

"Let his great empire's limits be, Now vast and wide, enlarged, and may he reign (Till it shall spread before his eyes complete) Supreme above all kings! May he attain To silver hairs, old age, and nations greet Our sovereign in his royalty!

"When gifts are ended of Life's days, The feasts of the Land of the Silver Sky, With bliss, the Blest Abode Refulgent Courts, May he enjoy through all eternity, Where Light of Happy Fields with joy transports And dwell in life eternal, holy there In presence of the gods with sacred cheer, With Assur's gods walk blessèd ways!"

When they have ended all their joyful song, They gratefully around their monarch throng; And kneeling at his feet, they bathe his hands With tears of joy, and kiss the 'broidered bands Of his bright robes, then joyous haste away; And Erech's shame was ended on that day.

And now the Sar as his libation pours The sparkling sacred wine before the doors That lead to Ishtar's glorious inner shrine. He bows before her golden form divine, Thus prays:

[4]"In thy fair shrine I bow to thee, O Light of Heaven! bright thy majesty As glowing flames upon the world doth dawn, Bright goddess of the earth, thy fixed abode! Who dawned upon the earth a glorious god! With thee prosperity hath ever gone. To gild the towers of cities of mankind! Thou warrior's god, who rideth on the wind! As a hyena fierce thou sendest war, And as a lion comes thy raging car. Each day thou rulest from thy canopy That spreads above in glory,—shines for thee; O come, exalted goddess of the Sun!"

[5]Against the tyrant King I go to war, Attend mine arms, O Queen! with radiant car Of battles! ride upon the giant King With thy bright, fiery chargers! valor bring To me at rising of the glistening car Of Samas, send attendants fierce of war! But goddess Mam-nutu of Fate and Death; Oh, keep away from me her blasting breath; Let Samas fix the hour with favor thine, And o'er mine unknown path, Oh ride divine! Thy servant strengthen with thy godly power That he invincible in war may tower, Against thy chosen city's greatest foe, Who brought on Erech all her deepest woe." And from the inner shrine with curtains hung, The Oracle of Ishtar sweetly sung:

"O King of vast unnumbered countries, hear! Thine enemy Khum-baba do not fear, My hands will waft the winds for thee. Thus I reveal! Khum-baba falls! thine enemy! Nor aught conceal.

"The harvest month[6] propitious shines, Array great Accad's battle lines! Before thy feet thy Queen descends, Before thy will thine Ishtar bends, To fight thine enemy, To war I go with thee! My word is spoken, thou hast heard, For thee, my favor thou hast stirred. As I am Ishtar of mine Or divine, Thine enemy shall fall! Be glory thine!

"Before mine Izdubar I go, And at thy side direct thy blow. I go with thee, fear not, my King, For every doubt and fear, I bring Relief, to thy heart rest! Of Sars, I love thee best!"

[Footnote 1: The account given by Herodotus of the worship of Beltis or Ishtar, if true (see Herodotus, i. 199), was one of the darkest features of Babylonian religion. It is probable that the first intention was only to represent love as heaven-born, and that it afterward became sensual in the time of Herodotus. (See Sayce's edition Smith's "C.A. of Gen.," p. 50.) The presence of the women may have been intended at first to present an innocent attraction. See also Rawlinson's "Ancient Monarchies," vol. iii. p. 21.]

[Footnote 2: See Herodotus, vol. i. p. 199. Ishtar was called Mylitta or Beltis in the time of Herodotus. We have taken the above description from Herodotus, whose work is mostly confirmed by the cuneiform inscriptions.]

[Footnote 3: The above psalm is found in vol. iii. of Rawlinson's "British Museum Inscriptions," pl. 66, and was translated by H.F. Talbot, F.R.S., in vol. i. of the "Transactions of the Society of Biblical Archæology," p. 108, and also by M. Lenormant in his "Premières Civilisations," p. 177. We have used Mr. Talbot's transcription.]

[Footnote 4: See terra-cotta tablet numbered "S. 954" in the British Museum; also translation by Rev. A.H. Sayce, M.A., in the "Records of the Past," vol. v. p. 157.]

[Footnote 5: See fragment in Sayce's edition Smith's "Chald. Acc. of Gen.," p. 220, col. iii.]

[Footnote 6: The harvest month was the month of Sivan, which is mentioned by the Oracle of Ishtar of Arbela. See "Cuneiform Inscriptions of Western Asia," vol. iv. pl. 68; also "Records of the Past," vol. xi. pp. 61-62.]

COLUMN IV

THE KING GOES FROM ISHTAR'S TEMPLE TO THE TEMPLE OF SAMAS

He rose and raised the pendant mystic charms And kissed them, and the jewels of her arms And ornaments upon her breast divine, And then her crown with jewels iridine He placed upon his brow, and it returned; And from the shrine in reverence he turned; To Samas' temple all the chiefs of war And seers, pa-te-si, go with Izdubar.

Before the fire he stands where holy burns The flames of Samas. In a vase he turns The crimson wine, to Samas, God, he pours Libation, and his favor thus implores:

"O Samas, why hast thou established, raised Me in thy heart?—protected? Men have praised Thee, Holy One! my expedition bless In thine own will, O God, I acquiesce. I go, O Samas, on a path afar, Against Khumbaba I declare this war; The battle's issue thou alone dost know, Or if success attends me where I go. The way is long, O may thy son return From the vast pine-tree forest, I would earn For Erech glory and renown! Destroy Khumbaba and his towers! he doth annoy All nations, and is evil to thy sight. To-morrow I will go, O send thy Light Upon my standards, and dark Nina-zu Keep thou away, that I may wary view Mine enemies, and fix for me the hour When I shall strike and crush Khumbaba's power.

To all the gods I humbly pray To Izdubar propitious be! [1]Assur Samas u Marduk-u, Ana Sar bel-ni-ya lik-ru-bu!"

And thus the Oracle with sweetest voice To him replied, and made his heart rejoice:

"Fear not, O Izdubar, For I am Bel, thy strength in war.[2] A heart of strength give I to thee! To trust, we can but faithful be! As thou hast shown to me. The sixty gods, our strongest ones, Will guide thy path where'er it runs; The moon-god on thy right shall ride, And Samas on thy left shall guide. The sixty gods thy will commands To crush Khumbaba's bands. In man alone, do not confide, Thine eyes turn to the gods, Who rule from their abodes, And trust in Heaven where powers abide!"

With joyous heart the Sar comes from the shrine To bathe his brow in Samas' rays divine; Upon the pyramid he stands and views The scene below with its bright varied hues. A peerless pile the temple grandly shone With marble, gold, and silver in the sun; In seven stages rose above the walls, With archways vast and polished pillared halls. A marble portico surrounds the mass With sculptured columns, banisters of brass, And winding stairways round the stages' side, Grand temples piled on temples upward glide, A mass of colors like the rainbow hues, Thus proudly rise from breezy avenues. The brazen gates lead to the temple's side, The stairs ascend and up the stages glide. The basement painted of the darkest blue Is passed by steps ascending till we view From them the second stage of orange hue And crimson third! from thence a glorious view— A thousand turrets far beneath, is spread O'er lofty walls, and fields, and grassy mead; The golden harvests sweep away in sight And orchards, vineyards, on the left and right; Euphrates' stream as a broad silver band Sweeps grandly through the glowing golden land, Till like a thread of silver still in sight It meets the Tigris gleaming in the light That spreads along the glorious bending skies, The brightest vault of all the emperies.

Now rested from the cushioned seats we rise And to the stairway turn again our eyes; The fourth stage plated o'er with beaten gold We pass, and topaz fifth till we behold The sixth of azure blue; to seventh glide, That glows with silvery summit where reside The gods, within a shrine of silvery sheen Which brightly glows, and from afar is seen. Without the temple, burnished silver shines; Within, pure gold and gems in rare designs.

[Footnote 1: "Assur Samas and Merodac" ("Unto the king, my lord, may they be propitious!"), the response of the priest to the prayer.]

[Footnote 2: See "Records of the Past," vol. xi. p. 63. These oracles seem to be formulas which are filled in with the monarch's name, and may apply to any king.]

COLUMN V

EXPEDITION AGAINST KHUMBABA, AND BATTLE IN THE BLACK FOREST

At early dawn the shining ranks are massed, And Erech echoes with the trumpet's blast; The chosen men of Erech are in line, And Ishtar in her car above doth shine. The blazing standards high with shouts are raised, As Samas' car above grand Sumir blazed. The march they sound at Izdubar's command, And thus they start for King Khumbaba's land; The gods in bright array above them shine, By Ishtar led, with Samas, moon-god Sin, On either side with Merodac and Bel, And Ninip, Nergal, Nusku with his spell, The sixty gods on chargers of the skies, And Ishtar's chariot before them flies.

Across Cazina's desert far have come, The armies now have neared Khumbaba's home; Beneath grand forests of tall cedar, pine, And the dark shades near Khar-sak's brow divine. A brazen gate before them high appeared, And massive walls which their great foe had reared; The mighty gates on heavy pivots hung, They broke, and on their brazen hinges swung With clanging roars against the solid wall, And sent through all the wilds a clarion call. Within his halls Khumbaba is enthroned, In grand Tul-Khumba's walls by forests zoned With her bright palaces and templed shrines, The sanctuaries of the gods, where pines Sigh on the wafting winds their rich perfumes; Where Elam's god with sullen thunder dooms From Kharsak's brow the wailing nation's round, And Elam's hosts obey the awful sound. The giant here his castled city old Had strengthened, wrung his tributes, silver, gold; His palace ceiling with pure silver shines, And on his throne of gold from Magan's[1] mines In all his pride the conqueror exults, With wealth has filled his massive iron vaults. Oft from his marble towers the plains surveys, And sees his foes' most ancient cities blaze; While his pa-te-si lead his allied hosts, And o'er his famous victories he boasts.

With Rimsin he allied when Erech fell, The King of Sarsa, whose great citadel Was stormed by Nammurabi the great Sar, Ninrad of Erech, our King Izdubar. Khumbaba's ally was by him o'erthrown, And thus appeared to take Khumbaba's throne. And now within his palace came a sound That roared through all the forest, shook the ground: "Our foes! our foes! the gate! hear how it rings!" And from his throne the giant furious springs: "Ho! vassals! sound the trump! 'tis Izdubar, To arms! our foes are on us from afar!" His weapons seizes, drives his men in fear Before him with his massive sword and spear, And as a tempest from his lips he pours His orders, while his warrior steed he spurs Along his serried lines of bristling spears; Among the pines the army disappears.

The men of Accad now in squadrons form, Arrayed to take Khumbaba's towers by storm; While Izdubar the forest black surveyed Of pines and cedars thickly grown, and made A reconnoitre of his hidden foe. The road was straight; afar the turrets glow With Samas' light, and all the gods arrayed, Ride o'er the pines and flash through their dark shade. The glorious blaze of Accad's glistening spears One kaspu pass, and now the foe appears; Beneath the deepest shadows of the pines Khumbaba stands with solid battle lines Before the marching host of Izdubar. The forest echoes with the shouts of war, As they sweep on with ringing battle cries, Now loudly echoed from the woods and skies: "Kar-ro! kar-ra![2] we follow Izdubar!" And through the forests fly the bolts of war.

The foe beheld the gods in wrath above, And Accad's charging lines toward them move, But bravely stand to meet the onset fierce, Their mailed armor, shields, no arrows pierce. And now in direst conflict meet the mass, And furious still meets ringing bronze and brass, Khumbaba on his mighty steed of war, Above the ranks towers high a giant Sar, And sweeps the men of Accad with his blade, Till to his breast a heap of corpses made, And fiercely urged his men to fight, to die; And Izdubar, with helmet towering high, His men has led with fury on the foe, And massacres each man with one fell blow, Who dares to stand in front with sword or spear, And fighting by him stands his valiant seer. The gods now rushing from the gleaming sky, With blazing weapons carry victory; The foe no longer stand before the sight, And shouting fly away in wild affright. Their monarch turned and slowly rode away; And Accad's hosts his men pursue and slay, Until the forest deep resounds with cries. To save himself each man in terror flies.

[Footnote 1: "Mag-an" or "Mizir," Egypt, or the famous mines of Africa.]

[Footnote 2: "Karra! kar-ra!" (cry out) "Hurrah! hurrah!"]

COLUMN VI

HAND-TO-HAND CONFLICT OF THE RIVAL GIANTS—DEATH OF KHUMBABA

Now the black forest through, the Sar and seer Sought for their foe, Khumbaba, far and near; But he had fled when he beheld the gods In fury rushing from their bright abodes. Now from the battle-field the King and seer The farthest limit of the forest near, And passing on, the Sar thus to his seer: "The gods have filled our foeman's heart with fear; He comes not forth to meet us 'neath his walls." But lo! within their sight, far from his halls, Khumbaba stands beside his steed of snow Held by his queen, and eyes his coming foe. Heabani cries: "Behold the enemy! And with his queen from us disdains to fly!" And Izdubar turned to Heabani, said: "My seer, methought this King from us had fled; His army slain or scattered from us fly; But by our hands this monarch here must die." Heabani eyed Khumbaba, nor replied Before the Queen, who wrung her hands and cried; And Izdubar continued: "He, of war, It seems, doth lack in skill, and from afar He scents the battle, while his fighting men Their raids oft make, and here return again; His castle we may enter without fear, And thou his queen mayst have who standeth here, And now we end the reign of Elam's throne; So lend thy hand to strike this monarch prone. My friend, if I mistake thee not, for war Thou art prepared, since thou upon the car Wast wont to ride in former years now gone; And if he falls, a feast day of the Sun [1]We will appoint, and may the birds of prey Surround his carcass on this glorious day: But stay! this giant I will slay alone, Although his weight is many gur-ri[2] stone; This giant's form the gods have surely made An enemy well worthy of my blade."

And Izdubar upon his foe advanced, Who waiting stood, and at him fiercely glanced, And naught replied; but raised his glory blade. Their furious glance, the giant's queen dismayed. She wildly eyed the rivals towering high, And breathless stood, then quickly turned to fly, As Izdubar upon his heavy shield Received Khumbaba's stroke, and then doth wield His massive blade as lightning o'er his head, He strikes the giant's helmet on the mead. Khumbaba, furious, strikes a mighty blow, Which staggers Izdubar, who on his foe Now springs and rains upon him faster blows, Until his blade with fire continuous glows. Khumbaba caught his blows on sword and shield With parries; thrusts returned, and naught would yield; And thus they fought, the peerless kings of war. Now Ishtar downward drove his raging car, And in Khumbaba's eyes her rays she cast, The giant turned his glance—it was his last; Unwary caught, his foe has swung his sword, Khumbaba's gory head rolls o'er the sward.

[Footnote 1: Smith's "Chald. Acc. of Gen.," Sayce's edition, p. 223, ls. 35 and 41.]

[Footnote 2: "Gur-ri," a measurement of weight corresponding to "ton"(?). It [Transcriber's note: missing, probably "was"] also used as a measurement of ships.]

ALCOVE II

TABLET V—COLUMN I

CORONATION OF IZDUBAR AS KING OF THE FOUR RACES, AND APPEARANCE OF ISHTAR IN HIS ROYAL PRESENCE, WHO SUES FOR HIS HAND

To Erech's palaces returns the Sar, Rich laden with Khumbaba's spoils of war. The land of Ur with grandest glories shines— And gleams with palaces and towers and shrines. The plain with temples, cities, walls is filled, And wide canals, and yellow harvests tilled. Grand Erech to the sight presents no walls In ruins laid, but glows with turrets, halls; With splendor proudly shines across the plain. And now with joy he meets his courtly train; Their shouts of welcome rend the gleaming skies, And happiness beams from his people's eyes. Within the walls he rides with kingly pride, And all his chiefs and seers beside him ride; To his grand palace they now lead the way, To crown him king of Subartu this day.

Arrayed in splendor on his throne, the Sar Before him eyes the Kassite spoils of war, Khumbaba's crown of gold, and blazing gems, The richest of the Kassite diadems, The royal sceptre of all Subartu, Of Larsa, Ur, Kardunia and Sutu The Sar upon his brow the crown now bound, Receives the sceptre while his courts resound With shouts for Sar-dan-nu of Subartu, The Sar of Kip-rat arba[1] and Sutu, Of Sumir, Accad, Nipur, Bar-ili,[2] And Erech, Larsa, Mairu, and Kus-si, Of Mal-al-nak, Kitu;—the sky resounds— For Iz-zu-bar-ili,[3] from earth rebounds; For Nam-mu-rabi, Bar-bels king of fire. What king to his great glory can aspire?

The Zig-gur-at-u to the skies His hands have built, where holy fires To Samas burn; its flame ne'er dies, To holiness lead man's desires. He opens wide the fiery gates Of all the gods at Dintir old, Ka-ding-ir-a.[4] This day completes His grandeur—may it far be told Of our great Sar whose godly gate Wide opens Heaven's joy for man, Of Iz-zu-bar-ili the great, Who rules from Khar-sak to the main. Within the entrance to the royal rooms, Queen Ishtar with her train in splendor comes, Her radiant form with glistening gems ablaze, And shining crescent with its glorious rays, Glow with bright Heaven's unremitting flame; Thus came the Queen of Love of godly fame. The richest robe of gods her form enshrines, With every charm of Heaven and earth she shines; Of their wide splendors robs the farthest skies, That she with love her hero may surprise. Her train she robes with liveries of Heaven, To her are all the dazzling splendors given.

The glittering court is filled with chiefs and seers, When Ishtar at the entrance now appears, The Ner-kalli,[5] her heralds at the door, As some grand sovereign from a foreign shore. The goddess proudly enters with her train, The spirits of the earth, and tossing main, From mountains, rivers, woods, and running streams; And every spirit where the sunlight gleams, Now fill the courts and palaces and halls, And thousands glowing bright surround the walls; Each wafting wind brings I-gi-gi[6] that soar Above An-un-na-ci from every shore, And herald Ishtar's presence, Queen of Love, With music through the halls, around, above. From lyres and lutes their softest wooings bring, As Ishtar bows before her lover king. A halo from the goddess fills the halls, And shines upon the dazzling jewelled walls. The Sar and seers in wonder were amazed At the sweet strains, and glorious light that blazed; Transfixed in silence stood, as she now spoke, And sweeter music through the palace woke. Like fragrant zephyrs, warbling from retreats Of gardens of the gods, she thus entreats From Izdubar her welcome, or a glance Of love; and she the Sar would thus entrance:

"Thy wisdom, Sar, surpasses all mankind, In thee, O king! no blemish do I find. The Queen of Heaven favor seeks from thee, I come with love, and prostrate bend the knee. My follies past, I hope thou wilt forgive, Alone I love thee, with thee move and live; My heart's affections to thee, me have led, To woo thee to thine Ishtar's marriage bed. O kiss me, my beloved! I adore Thee! Hear me! I renounce the godly shore With all its hollow splendor where as queen I o'er the heavenly hosts, unrivaled reign In grandest glory on my shining throne; And yet for thee my heart here pines alone, I cannot live without my Izdubar! My husband's love and simple word shall far Surpass the godly bond. O let me, king, Rest on thy breast, and happiness will cling To all the blissful days which shall be thine. With glory of the skies, my love shall shine. O Izdubar, my king! this love below Is grander here than mortals e'er can know, For this I leave my throne in yonder skies, And at the feet of love thy queen now lies. Oh, let me taste with thee the sweets of love, And I my love for thee will grandly prove, And thou shalt ride upon a diamond car, Lined with pure gold; and jeweled horns of war Shall stud it round like rays of Samas' fire. Rich gifts whate'er my lover shall desire, Thy word shall bring to thee, my Sar-dan-nu! Lo! all the wealth that gods above can view, I bring to thee with its exhaustless store. Oh, come my love! within the halls, where more Than I have named is found, all, all is thine; Oh, come with me within our halls divine! Amid the fragrant odors of the pines, And all shrubs and flowers, vines, Euphrates' zir-ri there shall sing for thee, And dance around thy feet with zi-mu-ri[7] And kings and lords and princes I will bring To bow to thee, beloved, glorious king! With tribute from the mountains and the plains, As offerings to thee. Thy flocks shall twins Bring forth; and herds of fattened, lowing kine Shall fast increase upon the plains divine. Thy warrior steeds shall prance with flowing manes, Resistless with thy chariot on the plain. Vast spoils, thy beasts of burden far shall bear, Unrivaled then shall be my king of war; And victory o'er all, thine eyes shall view, And loud acclaims shall rend the bright Samu."

[Footnote 1: "Kip-rat arba," the four races or regions.]

[Footnote 2: "Bar-ili," from "bar," gate, and "ili," of the gods—Babel, Bab—originates from the Accadian word "bar," Semitic "bab;" thus Babel was originally called "bar-ili." See Taylor and Furst. The latter renders it "Bar-(Bir-)Bel," "town of Belus."]

[Footnote 3: "Izzu-bar-ili" we believe to be the original name of Izdubar, afterward shortened to Izdubar, and means literally the fire-king of "bar-ili," or the "fire-king of the gate of the gods." This identifies him with Nimrod, the founder of Bar-bet or Babylon.]

[Footnote 4: Ka-ding-ir-a (Acc.), "gate of God"—Pinches.]

[Footnote 5: "Ner-kalli," or "Ner-ekalli," chief of the palace.]

[Footnote 6: "I-gi-gi," pronounced "e-gee-gee," spirits of heaven.]

[Footnote 7: "Zi-mu-ri," spirits of the light.]

COLUMN II

THE KING'S ANSWER AND ISHTAR'S RAGE

Amazed the sovereign sat upon his throne; And while she wooed, his heart was turned to stone; In scorn replied:

"Rise Ishtar, Heaven's high queen, Though all thy wealth, possessions I had seen Now piled before me, all in gems and gold, Of all the wealth of Heaven there heaped of old, I nakedness and famine would prefer To all the wealth divine thou canst confer. What carest thou for earthly royalty? The cup of poison shall thy lovers see. Thou sawest me within a haunt away From men. I lingered on that direful day, And took thee for a beauteous zi-re-mu[1] Or zi-ar-i-a or a zi-lit-tu[2] And thou didst cause to enter love divine. As zi-cur-un-i, spirit of the wine, Thou didst deceive me with thine arts refined, And love escaped upon the passing wind. Then to my palace come, and me there seek; Didst place thy mouth upon my lips, and wake Within my breast a dream of love and fire, Till I awoke and checked thy wild desire; Thou camest with the form of spirits fair, Didst hover o'er me in my chamber there. Thy godly fragrance from the skies above, A sign did carry of the Queen of Love: I woke, and thou didst vanish, then didst stand As mine own servant in my palace grand. Then as a skulking foe, a mystic spell Didst weave, and scorch me with the fires of hell While I was wrapped in sleep. Again I woke, I saw around me dal-khi, sulphurous smoke, Which thou didst send around my royal bed; And I believed that I was with the dead, With dal-khi gloating over me in hell. My su-khu-li then sought thy presence fell. Forever may thy wooing cease! for love Hath fled, may godly praises never move Upon the lips of holy gods, or men,— Of thee, the god of Love ne'er speak again! I loved thee once; with love my heart inflamed Once sought thee, but my troubles I have blamed Upon thee, for the dreams which thou didst send. Go! rest thy heart; and to thy pleasures wend!

"For Tammuz of thy youth thy heart once wailed, For years his weary form thy love assailed; Allala next, the eagle, lovest, tore His wings. No longer could he joyful soar And float above the forest to the sky. Thou leavest him with fluttering wings to die. A lusty lion thou didst love, his might Destroyed, and plucked his claws in fierce delight, By sevens plucked, nor heard his piteous cry. A glorious war-steed next thy love didst try, Who yielded to thee, till his strength was gone: For seven kaspu[3] thou didst ride upon Him without ceasing, gave no food nor drink, Till he beneath thee to the earth did sink, And to his mistress, Sil-i-li, the steed Returned with broken spirit, drooping head. Thou lovest Tabulu, the shepherd king, And from his love continuous didst wring Sem-uk-ki[4], till he to appease thy love, The mighty gods of heaven then sought to move To pity with his daily offerings. Beneath thy wand upon the ground he springs, Transformed to a hyena; then was driven From his own city—by his dogs was riven. Next Is-ul-lan-u lov'st, uncouth, and rude, Thy father's laborer, who subject stood To thee, and daily scoured thy vessels bright: His eyes from him were torn, before thy sight. And chained before thee, there thy lover stood, With deadly poison placed within his food. Thou sayst: 'O Isullanu, stretch thy hand! The food partake, that doth before thee stand!' Then with thy hand didst offer him the food. He said: 'What askest thou? It is not good! I will not eat the poison thus prepared.' Thy godly wand him from thy presence cleared, Transformed him to a pillar far away. And for my love Queen Ishtar comes this day? As thou hast done with others, would thy love Return to me, thine actions all doth prove."

The queen in fury from his presence turned, In speechless rage the palace halls she spurned; And proudly from the earth swept to the skies; Her godly train in terror quickly flies.

[Footnote 1: "Zi-re-mu," spirit of mercy or grace.]

[Footnote 2: "Zi-lit-tu," spirit of the mist.]

[Footnote 3: "Seven kaspu," fourteen hours; each kaspu was two hours.]

[Footnote 4: "Sem-uk-ki," translated by Sayce "stibium," antimony; by Talbot, "lütarish semukki," "thou who didst make evil with thy drugs."— "Trans. Soc. Bib. Arch.", vol. v. p. 110. Sayce's edition Smith's "C.A.G.," p. 229.]

COLUMN III

ISHTAR COMPLAINS TO ANU, KING OF HEAVEN, WHO CREATES A WINGED BULL TO DESTROY ISHTAR

Before the throne of Anu, Ishtar cries, And Anatu, the sovereigns of the skies: "O Sar, this king my beauty doth despise, My sweetest charms beholds not with his eyes." And Anu to his daughter thus replied: "My daughter, thou must crush his vaunting pride, And he will claim thy beauty and thy charms, And gladly lie within thy glorious arms."

"I hate him now, O Sar, as I did love! Against the strength of Anu let him prove His right divine to rule without our aid, Before the strength of Anu let him bleed. Upon this giant Sar so filled with pride, Let Anu's winged bull[1] in fury ride, And I will aid the beast to strike him prone, Till he in death shall breathe his dying groan." And Anu said: "If thou to it shall join Thy strength, which all thy noble names define Thy glories[2] and thy power thus magnified, Will humble him, who has thy power defied," And Ishtar thus: "By all my might as queen Of war and battles, where I proudly reign, This Sar my hands shall strike upon the plain, And end his strength and all his boastings vain. By all the noble names with gods I hold As queen of war, this giant monarch bold, Who o'er mine ancient city thinks to reign, Shall lie for birds of prey upon the plain. For answering my love for thee with scorn, Proud monarch! from thy throne thou shalt be torn!"

For Ishtar, Anu from the clouds creates A shining monster with thick brazen plates And horns of adamant;[3] and now it flies Toward the palace, roaring from the skies.

[Footnote 1: "Anu's winged bull," Taurus, constellation of the heavens.]

[Footnote 2: "Glories" ("maskhi"). This word is not translated by Mr. Sayce.]

[Footnote 3: "Horns of adamant." Sayce translates in I. 22, col. v., horns of crystal—"thirty manehs of crystal," etc. The meaning probably of "zamat stone," as given by Smith, was a hard substance, such as the diamond or adamant. By some translators it has been rendered onyx, and others lazuli.]

COLUMN IV

THE FIGHT WITH THE WINGED BULL OF ANU

The gods appear above to watch the fight, And Erech's masari rush in affright To Izdubar, who sits upon his throne, Before him fall in speechless terror prone. A louder roar now echoes from the skies, And Erech's Sar without the palace flies. He sees the monster light upon the plain, And calls Heabani with the choicest men Of Erech's spearsmen armed, who fall in line Without the gates, led by their Sar divine.

And now the monster rushed on Izdubar, Who meets it as the god of chase and war. With whirling sword before the monster's face, He rains his blows upon its front of brass And horns, and drives it from him o'er the plain, And now with spreading wings it comes again, With maddened fury; fierce its eyeballs glare. It rides upon the monarch's pointed spear; The scales the point have turned, and broke the haft. Then as a pouncing hawk when sailing daft, In swiftest flight o'er him drops from the skies, But from the gleaming sword it quickly flies. Three hundred warriors now nearer drew To the fierce monster, which toward them flew; Into their midst the monster furious rushed, And through their solid ranks resistless pushed To slay Heabani, onward fought and broke Two lines and through the third, which met the shock With ringing swords upon his horns and scales. At last the seer it reaches, him impales With its sharp horns: but valiant is the seer— He grasps its crest and fights without a fear. The monster from his sword now turns to fly; Heabani grasps its tail, and turns his eye Towards his king, while scudding o'er the plain. So quickly has it rushed and fled amain, That Izdubar its fury could not meet, But after it he sprang with nimble feet.

Heabani loosed his grasp and stumbling falls, And to his king approaching, thus he calls: "My friend, our strongest men are overthrown: But see! he comes! such strength was never known. With all my might I held him, but he fled! We both it can destroy! Strike at its head!" Like Rimmon now he flies upon the air, As sceptred Nebo,[1] he his horns doth bear, That flash with fire along the roaring skies, [2]Around the Sar and seer he furious flies. Heabani grasps the plunging horns, nor breaks His grasp; in vain the monster plunging shakes His head, and roaring, upward furious rears. Heabani's strength the mighty monster fears; He holds it in his iron grasp, and cries: "Quick! strike!" Beneath the blows the monster dies; And Izdubar now turned his furious face Toward the gods, and on the beast doth place His foot; he raised his gory sword on high, And sent his shout defiant to the sky: "'Tis thus, ye foes divine! the Sar proclaims His war against your power, and highest names! Hurl! hurl! your darts of fire, ye vile kal-bi![3] My challenge hear! ye cravens of the sky!"

[Footnote 1: "Nebo," the holder of the sceptre of power; also the god of prophecy.]

[Footnote 2: "Around" ("tarka"), or it may mean "between."]

[Footnote 3: "Kal-bi," dogs.]

COLUMN V

THE CURSE OF ISHTAR, AND REJOICING OF ERECH OVER THE VICTORY

The monarch and his seer have cleft the head From Anu's bull prone lying on the mead. They now command to bring it from the plain Within the city where they view the slain. The heart they brought to Samas' holy shrine, Before him laid the offering divine. Without the temple's doors the monster lays, And Ishtar o'er the towers the bulk surveys; She spurns the carcass, cursing thus, she cries: "Woe! woe to Izdubar, who me defies! My power has overthrown, my champion slain; Accursèd Sar! most impious of men!"

Heabani heard the cursing of the Queen, And from the carcass cleft the tail in twain, Before her laid it; to the goddess said: "And wherefore comest thou with naught to dread? Since I with Izdubar have conquered thee, Thou hearest me! Before thee also see Thine armored champion's scales! thy beast is dead," And Ishtar from his presence furious fled, And to her maids the goddess loudly calls Joy and Seduction from the palace halls; And o'er her champion's death she mourning cries, And flying with her maids, sped to the skies.

King Izdubar his summons sends afar To view the monster slain by Erech's Sar. The young and old the carcass far surround, And view its mighty bulk upon the ground. The young men eye its horns with wild delight, And weigh them on the public scales in sight Of Erech. "Thirty manehs weighs!" they cry; "Of purest zamat stone, seems to the eye In substance, with extremities defaced." Six gurri weighed the monster's bulk undressed. As food for Lugul-turda, their Sar's god, The beast is severed, placed upon the wood. Piled high upon the altar o'er the fires. Then to Euphrates' waters each retires To cleanse themselves for Erech's grand parade, As Izdubar by proclamation bade. Upon their steeds of war with Izdubar The chiefs and warriors extend afar With chariots, and waving banners, spears, And Erech rings with their triumphant cheers. Before the chariot of their great Sar, Who with his seer rides in his brazen car, The seers a proclamation loud proclaim And cheer their Sar and seer; and laud the name Of their great monarch, chanting thus his praise, While Erech's band their liveliest marches play:

"If anyone to glory can lay claim Among all chiefs and warriors of fame, We Izdubar above them all proclaim Our Izzu-Ul-bar[1] of undying fame. Sar gabri la isu, Sar-dannu bu-mas-lu![2]

"He wears the diadem of Subartu, From Bar-ili[3] he came to Eridu; Our giant monarch, who of all barri[4] Can rival him, our Nin-arad rabi?[5] Sar-dannu ina mati basi, Sar bu-mas-la e-mu-ki, nesi."[6]

Through the grand halls of Erech far resounds The feast their Sar proclaimed through all the grounds Of Erech's palaces; where he now meets His heroes, seers and counsellors, and greets Them in his crowded festal halls. Grand banquets far are spread within the walls, And sparkling rarest wines each freely drank, And revels ruled the hour till Samas sank, And shadows sweep across the joyous plain, And Samas sleeps with Hea 'neath the main. The jewelled lamps are lit within the halls, And dazzling glory on the feasters falls. The rays o'er gems and richest garments shone Upon the lords and ladies round the throne; While troops of dancing girls around them move With cymbals, harps and lutes, with songs of love. Again the board glows with rich food and wines, Now spread before them till each man reclines Upon his couch at rest in the far night, And swimming halls and wines pass from their sight.

[Footnote 1: "Izzu-Ul-bar," the fire of Bel's temple.]

[Footnote 2: "The King who has no rival. The powerful giant King." The royal titles of Izdubar.]

[Footnote 3: "Bar-ili," temple, or country of the gods.]

[Footnote 4: "Barri," chieftains, army, soldiers.]

[Footnote 5: "Nin-arad rabi," "the servant of Nin, the King."]

[Footnote 6: "Who is the great king (in the land) of all countries, the powerful giant king, the lion!" The royal titles of Izdubar.]

COLUMN VI

ISHTAR WEAVES A MYSTIC SPELL OVER THE KING AND SEER, AND VANISHES—THE SEER ADVISES THE KING TO SEEK THE AID OF THE IMMORTAL SEER WHO ESCAPES FROM THE FLOOD.

The goddess Ishtar wrapped in darkness waits Until the goddess Tsil-at-tu[1] the gates Of sleep has closed upon the darkened plain; Then lightly to the palace flies the Queen. O'er the King's couch she weaves an awful dream, While her bright eyes upon him furious gleam. Then o'er Heabani's couch a moment stands, And Heaven's curtains pulls aside with hands Of mystic power, and he a vision sees— The gods in council;—vanishing, she flees Without the palace like a gleam of light, And wakes the guard around in wild affright.

Next day the seer reveals to Izdubar How all the gods a council held of war, And gave to Anu power to punish them For thus defying Ishtar's godly claim; And thus the seer gave him his counsel, well Considered, how to meet their plottings fell:

"To Khasisadra go, who from the flood Escaped when o'er the earth the waters stood Above mankind, and covered all the ground; He at the river's mouth may yet be found. For his great aid, we now the seer must seek, For Anu's fury will upon us break. Immortal lives the seer beside the sea; Through Hades pass, and soon the seer mayst see."

Thus Izdubar replied, and him embraced: "With thee, Heabani, I my throne have graced; With thee I go, mine own companion dear, And on the road each other we may cheer," "The way is long, my King, and if I live, With thee I go, but oh, thou must not grieve, For perils great attend the way, and old Am I: the suppleness of youth to hold My strength I need, but it alas! is gone. My heart is ready, but I fear, my son, These crippled limbs which Anu's bull hath left Of my strong vigor, have thy seer bereft. Too weak am I, for that long journey hard To undertake; my presence would retard Thee,—with these wounds; nor strength have I to last To guard my body in the mountain fast. But if thou wilt, my strength is thine, my King! To do thy will my agèd form shall spring With gladness, and all perils I'll defy; If need be, for thee will thy servant die."

"Heabani, noble one! my chosen seer! I love thee, bid thy loyal heart good cheer. He steeds may take to ride through all the way, With easy journeys on the road each day; From perils I will guard thee, and defend; To-morrow then we on our way will wend."

Equipped for the long journey they appear Next morn and leave, while Erech's people cheer Them on their way across the glowing plain, To perils dire they go—distress and pain.

[Footnote 1: "Tsil-at-tu," goddess of darkness, or shades of night.]

TABLET VI—COLUMN I

ISHTAR'S DESCENT TO HADES—HER FEARFUL RECEPTION

To Hades' darkened land, whence none return, Queen Ishtar, Sin's great daughter, now doth turn; Inclined her ear and listened through the void That lay beneath of every path devoid, The home of darkness, of the Under-World, Where god Ir-kal-la[1] from the heights was hurled. The land and road from whence is no return, Where light no entrance hath to that dark bourne; Where dust to dust returns, devouring clods; Where light dwells not in Tsil-lat-tus abodes; Where sable ravens hovering rule the air; O'er doors and bolts dust reigneth with despair. Before the gates of gloom the Queen now stands, And to the keeper Ishtar thus commands: "O keeper of the waters! open wide Thy gate, that I through these dark walls may glide; But if thou open'st not the gate for me, That I may enter, shattered thou shalt see The doors and bolts before thee lying prone, And from the dust shall rise each skeleton, With fleshless jaws devour all men with thee, Till death shall triumph o'er mortality." The keeper to the Princess Ishtar said: "Withhold thy speech! or Allat's fury dread! To her I go to bid thee welcome here." To Allat then the keeper doth appear: "Thy sister Ishtar the dark waters seeks— The Queen of Heaven," thus Allat's fury breaks. "So like an herb uprooted comes this Queen, To sting me as an asp doth Ishtar mean? What can her presence bring to me but hate? Doth Heaven's Queen thus come infuriate?" And Ishtar thus replies: "The fount I seek, Where I with Tammuz, my first love, may speak; And drink its waters, as sweet nectar-wines, Weep o'er my husband, who in death reclines; My loss as wife with handmaids I deplore, O'er my dear Tammuz let my teardrops pour." And Allat said, "Go! keeper, open wide The gates to her! she hath me once defied; Bewitch her as commanded by our laws." To her thus Hades opened wide its jaws.

"Within, O goddess! Cutha thee receives! Thus Hades' palace its first greeting gives." He seized her, and her crown aside was thrown. "O why, thou keeper, dost thou seize my crown?" "Within, O goddess! Allat thee receives! 'Tis thus to thee our Queen her welcome gives." Within the next gate he her earrings takes, And goddess Ishtar now with fury shakes. "Then why, thou slave, mine earrings take away?" "Thus entrance, goddess, Allat bids this day." At the third gate her necklace next he takes, And now in fear before him Ishtar quakes. "And wilt thou take from me my gems away?" "Thus entrance, goddess, Allat bids this day." And thus he strips the goddess at each gate, Of ornaments upon her breast and feet And arms; her bracelets, girdle from her waist, Her robe next took, and flung the Queen undrest Within a cell of that dark solitude. At last, before Queen Ishtar Allat stood, When she had long remained within the walls, And Allat mocked her till Queen Ishtar falls Humiliated on the floor in woe; Then turning wildly, cursed her ancient foe. Queen Allat furious to her servant cries: "Go! Naintar! with disease strike blind her eyes! And strike her side! her breast and head and feet; With foul disease her strike, within the gate!"

[Footnote 1: "Ir-kal-la," the King of Hades, who was hurled from the heights of heaven with the evil gods who rebelled with Tiamatu, the goddess of chaos, against the reign of the gods of heaven.]

COLUMN II

EFFECT OF ISHTAR'S IMPRISONMENT IN HADES—LOVE DEPARTS FROM THE EARTH—THE EARTH'S SOLEMN DIRGE OF WOE.

When Ishtar, Queen of Love, from Earth had flown, With her love fled, and left all nature prone; From Earth all peace with love then fled amain. In loneliness the bull stalked o'er the plain, And tossed his drooping crest toward the sky, In sadness lay upon the green to die; On the far kine looked weary and bereaved, And turned toward the gods, and wondering grieved. The troubled kine then gravely chewed their cud, And hungerless in the rich pastures stood. The ass his mate abandoned, fled away, And loveless wives then cursed the direful day; And loving husbands kiss their wives no more, And doves their cooing ceased, and separate soar; And love then died in all the breasts of men, And strife supreme on earth was reveling then.

The sexes of mankind their wars divide, And women hate all men, and them deride; And some demented hurl aside their gowns, And queens their robes discard and jewelled crowns, And rush upon the streets bereft of shame, Their forms expose, and all the gods defame. Alas! from earth the Queen of Love has gone, And lovers 'void their haunts with faces wan And spurn from them the hateful thought of love, For love no longer reigns, all life to move. An awful thrill now speeds through Hades' doors, And shakes with horror all the dismal floors; A wail upon the breeze through space doth fly, And howling gales sweep madly through the sky; Through all the universe there speeds a pang Of travail. Mam-nu-tu[1] appalled doth hang Upon her blackened pinions in the air, And piteous from her path leads Black Despair, "The queen in chains in Hades dying lies, And life with her," they cry, "forever dies!" Through misty glades and darkened depths of space, Tornadoes roar her fate to Earth's sweet face; The direful tidings from far Hades pour Upon her bosom with their saddest roar; Like moans of mighty powers in misery, They bring the tale with awful minstrelsy. And Earth her mists wrapped round her face in woe, While icy pangs through all her breast deep flow. Her bosom sobbing wails a mighty moan, "Alas! forever my sweet queen hath flown!" With shrieks of hurricane, and ocean's groan, And sobbing of the winds through heights unknown, Through mountain gorges sweep her wails of woe, Through every land and seas, her sorrows flow: Oh, moan! oh, moan! dear mountains, lakes, and seas! Oh, weep with me dear plants, and flowers, and trees! Alas! my beauty fading now will die! Oh, weep, ye stars, for me in every sky! Oh, Samas, hide thy face! I am undone! Oh, weep with me Ur-ru,[2] my precious son. Let all your notes of joy, my birds, be stilled; Your mother's heart with dread despair is filled:

"Come back, my flowerets, with your fragrant dews; Come, all my beauties, with your brightest hues; Come back, my plants and buds and youngling shoots! Within your mother's bosom hide your roots. Oh, children, children! Love hath fled away, Alas! that life I gave should see this day! Your queen lies dying in her awful woe, Oh, why should she from us to Hades go?"

Wide Nature felt her woe, and ceased to spring, And withered buds their vigor lost, and fling No more their fragrance to the lifeless air; The fruit-trees died, or barren ceased to bear; The male plants kiss their female plants no more; And pollen on the winds no longer soar To carry their caresses to the seed Of waiting hearts that unavailing bleed, Until they fold their petals in despair, And dying, drop to earth, and wither there. The growing grain no longer fills its head, The fairest fields of corn lie blasted, dead. All Nature mourning dons her sad attire, And plants and trees with falling leaves expire. And Samas' light and moon-god's soothing rays Earth's love no more attracts; recurring days Are shortened by a blackness deep profound That rises higher as the days come round. At last their light flees from the darkened skies, The last faint gleam now passes, slowly dies. Upon a blasted world, dread darkness falls, O'er dying nature, crumbling cities' walls. Volcanoes' fires are now the only light, Where pale-faced men collect around in fright; With fearful cries the lurid air they rend, To all the gods their wild petitions send.

[Footnote 1: "Mam-nu-tu," goddess of fate.]

[Footnote 2: "Ur-ru," the moon-god.]

COLUMN III

PAPSUKUL, THE GOD OF HOPE, AND HERALD OF THE GODS, FLIES FROM THE EARTH AND INTERCEDES FOR THE RELEASE OF ISHTAR, AND HEA GRANTS HIS PRAYER

O Hope! thou fleeting pleasure of the mind, Forever with us stay, our hearts to bind! We cling to thee till life has fled away; Our dearest phantom, ever with us stay! Without thee, we have naught but dread despair, The worst of all our torments with us here; Oh, come with thy soft pinions, o'er us shine! And we will worship thee, a god divine: The ignis fatuus of all our skies That grandly leads us, vanishes and dies, And we are left to grope in darkness here, Without a ray of light our lives to cheer. Oh, stay! sweet Love's companion, ever stay! And let us hope with love upon our way! We reck not if a phantom thou hast been, And we repent that we have ever seen Thy light on earth to lead us far astray; Forever stay! or ever keep away!

When Papsukul beheld in man's abodes The change that spread o'er blasted, lifeless clods, And heard earth's wailing through the waning light, With vegetation passing out of sight, From the doomed world to Heaven he quickly flies, While from the earth are rising fearful cries. To Samas' throne he speeds with flowing tears, And of the future dark he pours his fears. To Sin, the moon-god, Pap-su-kul now cries O'er Ishtar's fate, who in black Hades lies; O'er Earth's dire end, which with Queen Ishtar dies; To Hea he appeals with mournful cries:

"O Hea, our Creator, God and King! Queen Ishtar now is lying prone. To Earth, our godly queen again, oh, bring! I trust thy love, O Holy One! To all the gods who reign o'er us on high I pray! thus Hope thine aid implores, Release our queen! To Hades quickly fly! Thy Pap-su-kul with faith adores.

"The bull hath left the lowing kine bereaved, And sulking dies in solitude; The ass hath fled away, his mates hath grieved, And women are no more imbued With love, and drive their husbands far away, And wives enjoy not their caress; All peace and love have gone from earth this day, And love on earth knows not its bliss.

"The females die through all the living world, Among all beasts, and men, and plants; All love from them on earth have madly hurled, For blissful love no more each pants; And Samas' light is turned away from Earth, And left alone volcanoes' fire; The land is filled with pestilence and dearth, All life on earth will soon expire."

When Hea heard the solemn chant of Hope, From his high throne he let his sceptre drop, And cried: "And thus, I rule o'er all mankind! For this, I gave them life, immortal mind; To earth's relief, my herald shall quick go, I hear thy prayer, and song of Ishtar's woe."

"Go! At-su-su-namir, with thy bright head! With all thy light spring forth! and quickly speed; Towards the gates of Hades, turn thy face! And quickly fly for me through yonder space. Before thy presence may the seven gates Of Hades open with their gloomy grates; May Allat's face rejoice before thy sight, Her rage be soothed, her heart filled with delight; But conjure her by all the godly names, And fearless be,—towards the roaring streams Incline thine ear, and seek the path there spread. Release Queen Ishtar! raise her godly head! And sprinkle her with water from the stream; Her purify! a cup filled to the brim Place to her lips that she may drink it all. The herald as a meteor doth fall, With blazing fire disparts the hanging gloom Around the gates of that dark world of doom."

COLUMN IV

RELEASE OF ISHTAR—HER ATTEMPTS TO BRING TO LIFE TAMMUZ, HER FIRST LOVER

When Allat saw the flaming herald come, And his bright light dispelling all her gloom, She beat her breast; and at him furious foams In rage, and stamping shakes all Hades' domes, Thus cursed the herald, At-su-su-namir: "Away! thou herald! or I'll chain thee here In my dark vaults, and throw thee for thy food The city's garbage, which has stagnant stood, With impure waters for thy daily drink, And lodge thee in my prison till you sink From life impaled in yonder dismal room Of torture; to thy fate so thou hast come? Thine offspring with starvation I will strike!"

At last obedient doth Allat speak: "Go, Namtar! and the iron palace strike! O'er Asherim[1] adorned let the dawn break! And seat the spirits on their thrones of gold! Let Ishtar Life's bright waters then behold, And drink her fill, and bring her then to me; From her imprisonment, I send her free." And Namtar then goes through the palace walls, And flings the light through all the darkened halls, And places all the spirits on their thrones, Leads Ishtar to the waters near the cones. She drinks the sparkling water now with joy, Which all her form doth cleanse and purify. And he at the first gate her robe returns, And leads her through the second; where he turns, And gives her bracelets back;—thus at each door Returns to her her girdle, gems; then o'er Her queenly brow he placed her shining crown. With all her ornaments that were her own, She stands with pride before the seventh gate, And Namtar bows to her in solemn state:

"Thou hast no ransom to our queen here paid For thy deliverance, yet thou hast said Thy Tammuz thou didst seek within our walls, Turn back! and thou wilt find him in these halls. To bring him back to life the waters pour Upon him; they thy Tammuz will restore; With robes thou mayst adorn him and a crown Of jewels, and thy maid with thee alone Shall give thee comfort and appease thy grief. Kharimtu, Samkha come to thy relief!"

Now Ishtar lifts her eyes within a room Prepared for her, and sees her maidens come, Before a weird procession wrapped in palls, That soundless glide within and fills the halls. Before her now they place a sable bier Beside the fount; and Ishtar, drawing near, Raised the white pall from Tammuz's perfect form. The clay unconscious, had that mystic charm Of Beauty sleeping sweetly on his face,— Of agony or sorrow left no trace: But, oh! that awful wound of death was there With its deep mark;—the wound, and not the scar.

When Ishtar's eyes beheld it, all her grief Broke forth afresh, refusing all relief; She smote her breast in woe, and moaning cried, Nor the bright waters to his wound applied: "O Tammuz! Tammuz! turn thine eyes on me! Thy queen thou didst adorn, before thee see! Behold the emeralds and diamond crown Thou gavest me when I became thine own! Alas! he answers not: and must I mourn Forever o'er my love within this bourne? But, oh! the waters from this glowing stream! Perhaps those eyes on me with love will beam, And I shall hear again his song of love. Oh, quickly let these waters to me prove Their claim to banish death with magic power!"

Then with her maids, she o'er his form doth pour The sparkling drops of life— "He moves! he lives! What happiness is this my heart receives? O come, my Tammuz! to my loving arms!"

And on breast his breathing form she warms; With wondering eyes he stares upon his queen, And nestling closed his eyes in bliss again.

[Footnote 1: "Asherim," literally "stone stakes" or "cones," the symbols of the goddess Asherah or Ishtar (Sayce), but Calmet says that the god Ashima is a deity of very uncertain origin, and that the name "Ashima" may be very well compared with the Persian "asuman" ("heaven"); in "Zend," "acmano," so Gesenius in his Man. Lex., 1832. This also, according to the magi, is the name of the angel of death, who separates the souls of men from their bodies, Cal. Dic., p. 106. Cones are to be seen in the British Museum which are probably of the character which represented Elah-Gabalah, the sun-god, adored in Rome during the reign of Heliogabalus. The symbol and worship came from Hamath in Syria.]

COLUMN V

TAMMUZ IS RESTORED TO LIFE BY THE WATERS OF LIFE—HIS SONG OF LOVE

The nectared cup the queen placed to his lips, And o'er his heaving breast the nectar drips, And now his arms are folded round his queen, And her fond kisses he returns again; And see! they bring to him his harp of gold, And from its strings, sweet music as of old His skilful hands wake through the sounding domes; Oh, how his Song of Love wakes those dark rooms!

"My Queen of Love comes to my arms! Her faithful eyes have sought for me, My Love comes to me with her charms; Let all the world now happy be! My queen has come again!

Forever, dearest, let me rest Upon the bosom of my queen! Thy lips of love are honeyed best; Come! let us fly to bowering green! To our sweet bower again.

O Love on Earth! O Love in Heaven! That dearest gift which gods have given, Through all my soul let it be driven, And make my heart its dearest haven, For Love returns the kiss!

Oh! let me pillow there within Thy breast, and, oh, so sweetly rest, My life anew shall there begin; On thy sweet charms, oh, let me feast! Life knows no sweeter bliss.

Oh, let me feast upon thy lips, As honey-bird the nectar sips, And drink new rapture through my lips, As honey-bee its head thus drips In nectarine abyss!

O Love, sweet queen! my heart is thine! My Life I clasp within mine arms! My fondest charmer, queen divine! My soul surrenders to thy charms, In bliss would fly away.

No dearer joy than this I want; If love is banished from that life There bodyless, my soul would pant, And pine away in hopeless grief, If love be fled away.

If Love should hide and fold her wings In bowers of yonder gleaming skies, Unmeaning then each bard oft sings Of bliss that lives on earth and dies,— I want such love as this.

I want thy form, thy loving breast, Mine arms of love surrounding thee, And on thy bosom sweetly rest, Or else that world were dead to me. No other life is bliss.

If it is thus, my queen, I go With joy to yonder blissful clime; But if not so, then let me flow To soil and streams through changing time, To me would be more bliss.

For then, in blooming flowerets, I Could earth adorn, my soul delight, And never thus on earth could die; For though I should be hid from sight, Would spring again with joy!

And sing as some sweet warbling bird, Or in the breezes wave as grain, As yellow sun-birds there have whirred On earth, could I thus live again, That beauteous world enjoy!

'Mid safflower-fields or waving cane, Or in the honeysuckles lie, In forms of life would breathe again, Enjoy Earth's sweetest revelry, And ever spring again!

Each life to me new joys would bring, In breast of beast or bird or flower, In each new form new joys would spring, And happy, ever, Love would soar! Triumphant filled with joy!

In jujube or tamarisk Perhaps would come to life again, Or in the form of fawns would frisk 'Mid violets upon the plain; But I should live again!

And throb beneath the glistening dew, In bamboo tufts, or mango-trees, In lotus bloom, and spring anew, In rose-tree bud, or such as these On Earth return again!

And I should learn to love my mate, In beast or singing bird or flower, For kiss of love in hope could wait; Perhaps I then would come that hour, In form I have again!

And love you say, my queen, is there, Where I can breathe with life anew? But is it so? My Love, beware! For some things oft are false, some true, But I thee trust again!

We fly away! from gates away! Oh, life of bliss! Oh, breath of balm! With wings we tread the Silver Way, To trailing vines and feathery palm, To bower of love again."

COLUMN VI

ESCAPE OF TAMMUZ FROM HADES—HIS DEATH IN THE CLOUDS—FUNERAL PROCESSION OF THE GODS—ISHTAR'S ELEGY OVER THE DEATH OF TAMMUZ—HIS REVIVAL IN HADES, WHERE HE IS CROWNED AS THE LORD OF HADES—ISHTAR'S RETURN BRINGS LIGHT AND LOVE BACK TO EARTH.

But see! they pass from those dark gates and walls, And fly upon the breeze from Hades' halls, Hark! hark! the sounding harp is stilled! it falls From Tammuz's hands! Oh, how its wailing calls To you bright zi-ni[1] flying through the skies, See! one sweet spirit of the wind swift flies And grasps the wailing harp before it ends Its wail of woe, and now beneath it bends, With silent pinions listening to its strings, Wild sobbing on the winds;—with wailing rings The conscious harp, and trembles in her hands. A rush of pinions comes from myriad lands, With moanings sends afar the awful tale, And mourners brings with every whispering gale. And see! the queen's companion fainting sinks! She lays him on that cloud with fleecy brinks! And oh! his life is ebbing fast away! She wildly falls upon his breast, and gray Her face becomes with bitter agony. She tearless kneels, wrapt in her misery And now upon his breast she lays her head, With tears that gods, alas! with men must shed; She turning, sobs to her sweet waiting maids, Who weeping o'er her stand with bended heads: "Assemble, oh, my maids, in mourning here, The gods! and spirits of the earth bring near!"

They come! they come! three hundred spirits high, The heavenly spirits come! the I-gi-gi! From Heaven's streams and mouths and plains and vales, And gods by thousands on the wings of gales. The spirits of the earth, An-un-na-ci, Now join around their sisters of the sky. Hark! hear her weeping to the heavenly throng, Imploring them to chant their mournful song:

"With your gold lyres, the dirge, oh, sing with me! And moan with me, with your sweet melody; With swelling notes, as zephyrs softly wail, And cry with me as sobbing of the gale. O Earth! dear Earth! oh, wail with thy dead trees! With sounds of mountain torrents, moaning seas! And spirits of the lakes, and streams, and vales, And Zi-ku-ri of mountains' trackless trail, Join our bright legions with your queen! Oh, weep With your sad tears, dear spirits of the deep! Let all the mournful sounds of earth be heard, The breeze hath carried stored from beast and bird; Join the sweet notes of doves for their lost love To the wild moans of hours,—wailing move; Let choirs of Heaven and of the earth then peal, All living beings my dread sorrow feel! Oh, come with saddest, weirdest melody, Join earth and sky in one sweet threnody!"

Ten thousand times ten thousand now in line, In all the panoplies of gods divine; A million crowns are shining in the light, A million sceptres, robes of purest white! Ten thousand harps and lutes and golden lyres Are waiting now to start the Heavenly choirs.

And lo! a chariot from Heaven comes, While halves rise from yonder sapphire domes; A chariot incrusted with bright gems, A blaze of glory shines from diadems. See! in the car the queen o'er Tammuz bends, And nearer the procession slowly wends, Her regal diadem with tears is dimmed; And her bright form by sorrow is redeemed To sweeter, holier beauty in her woe; Her tears a halo form and brighter flow.

Caparisoned with pearls, ten milk-white steeds Are harnessed to her chariot that leads; On snow-white swans beside her ride her maids, They come! through yonder silver cloudy glades! Behind her chariot ten sovereigns ride; Behind them comes all Heaven's lofty pride, On pale white steeds, the chargers of the skies. The clouds of snowy pinions rustling rise! But hark! what is that strain of melody That fills our souls with grandest euphony? Hear how it swells and dies upon the breeze! To softest whisper of the leaves of trees; Then sweeter, grander, nobler, sweeping comes, Like myriad lyres that peal through Heaven's domes. But, oh! how sad and sweet the notes now come! Like music of the spheres that softly hum; It rises, falls, with measured melody, With saddest notes and mournful symphony. From all the universe sad notes repeat With doleful strains of woe transcendent, sweet; Hush! hear the song! my throbbing heart be still! The songs of gods above the heavens fill!

"Oh, weep with your sweet tears, and mourning chant, O'er this dread loss of Heaven's queen. With her, O sisters, join your sweetest plaint O'er our dear Tammuz, Tammuz slain. Come, all ye spirits, with your drooping wings, No more to us sweet joy he brings; Ah, me, my brother![2]

Oh, weep! oh, weep! ye spirits of the air, Oh, weep! oh, weep! An-un-na-ci! Our own dear queen is filled with dread despair. Oh, pour your tears, dear earth and sky, Oh, weep with bitter tears, O dear Sedu, O'er fearful deeds of Nin-azu; Ah, me, my brother!

Let joy be stilled! and every hope be dead! And tears alone our hearts distil. My love has gone!—to darkness he has fled; Dread sorrow's cup for us, oh, fill! And weep for Tammuz we have held so dear, Sweet sisters of the earth and air; Ah, me, my sister!

Oh, come ye, dearest, dearest Zi-re-nu, With grace and mercy help us bear Our loss and hers; our weeping queen, oh, see! And drop with us a sister's tear. Before your eyes our brother slain! oh, view; Oh, weep with us o'er him so true; Ah, me, his sister!

The sky is dead; its beauty all is gone, Oh, weep, ye clouds, for my dead love! Your queen in her dread sorrow now is prone. O rocks and hills in tears, oh, move! And all my heavenly flowerets for me weep, O'er him who now in death doth sleep; Ah, me, my Tammuz!

Oh, drop o'er him your fragrant dewy tears, For your own queen who brings you joy, For Love, the Queen of Love, no longer cheers, Upon my heart it all doth cloy. Alas! I give you love, nor can receive, O all my children for me grieve; Ah, me, my Tammuz!

Alas! alas! my heart is dying—dead! With all these bitter pangs of grief Despair hath fallen on my queenly head, Oh, is there, sisters, no relief? Hath Tammuz from me ever, ever, gone? My heart is dead, and turned to stone; Ah, me, his queen!

My sister spirits, O my brothers dear, My sorrow strikes me to the earth; Oh, let me die! I now no fate can fear, My heart is left a fearful dearth. Alas, from me all joy! all joy! hath gone; Oh, Ninazu, what hast thou done? Ah, me, his queen!"

To Hades' world beyond our sight they go, And leave upon the skies Mar-gid-da's[3] glow, That shines eternally along the sky, The road where souls redeemed shall ever fly. Prince Tammuz now again to life restored, Is crowned in Hades as its King and Lord,[4] And Ishtar's sorrow thus appeased, she flies To earth, and fills with light and love the skies.

[Footnote 1: "Zi-ni," pronounced "Zee-nee," spirits of the wind.]

[Footnote 2: "Ah, me, my brother, and, ah, me, my sister! Ah, me, Adonis (or Tammuz), and ah, me, his lady (or queen)!" is the wailing cry uttered by the worshippers of Tammuz or Adonis when celebrating his untimely death. It is referred to in Jer. xxii. 18, and in Ezek. viii. 14, and Amos viii. 10, and Zech. xii. 10, 11. See Smith's revised edition of "Chal. Acc. of Genesis," by Sayce, pp. 247, 248.]

[Footnote 3: "Mar-gid-da," "the Long Road." We have also given the Accadian name for "The Milky Way." It was also called by them the "River of Night."]

[Footnote 4: "Lord of Hades" is one of the titles given to Tammuz in an Accadian hymn found in "C.I.W.A.," vol. iv. 27, 1, 2. See also translation in "Records of the Past," vol. xi. p. 131.]

TABLET VII—COLUMN I

THE KING AND SEER CONVERSING ON THEIR WAY TO KHASI-SADRA—INTERPRETATION OF THE KING'S DREAM IN THE PALACE ON THE NIGHT OF THE FESTIVAL

"The dream, my seer, which I beheld last night Within our tent, may bring to us delight. I saw a mountain summit flash with fire, That like a royal robe or god's attire Illumined all its sides. The omen might Some joy us bring, for it was shining bright." And thus the Sar revealed to him his dream.

Heabani said, "My friend, though it did seem Propitious, yet, deceptive was it all, And came in memory of Elam's fall. The mountain burning was Khumbaba's halls We fired, when all his soldiers from the walls Had fled;—the ni-takh-garri,[1]—on that morn, Of such deceptive dreams, I would thee warn!"

Some twenty kaspu they have passed this day, At thirty kaspu they dismount to pray And raise an altar, Samas to beseech That they their journey's end may safely reach. The tent now raised, their evening meal prepare Beneath the forest in the open air; And Izdubar brought from the tent the dream He dreamed the festal night when Ishtar came To him;—he reads it from a written scroll: "Upon my sight a vision thus did fall: I saw two men that night beside a god; One man a turban wore, and fearless trod. The god reached forth his hand and struck him down Like mountains hurled on fields of corn, thus prone He lay; and Izdubar then saw the god Was Anatu,[2] who struck him to the sod. The troubler of all men, Samu's fierce queen, Thus struck the turbaned man upon the plain. He ceased his struggling, to his friend thus said: 'My friend, thou askest not why I am laid Here naked, nor my low condition heed. Accursèd thus I lie upon the mead; The god has crushed me, burned my limbs with fire.'

"The vision from mine eyes did then expire. A third dream came to me, which I yet fear, The first beyond my sight doth disappear. A fire-god thundering o'er the earth doth ride; The door of darkness burning flew aside; Like a fierce stream of lightning, blazing fire, Beside me roared the god with fury dire, And hurled wide death on earth on every side; And quickly from my sight it thus did glide, And in its track I saw a palm-tree green Upon a waste, naught else by me was seen."

Heabani pondering, thus explained the dream: "My friend, the god was Samas, who doth gleam With his bright glory, power, our God and Lord, Our great Creator King, whose thunders roared By thee, as through yon sky he takes his way; For his great favor we should ever pray. The man thou sawest lying on the plain Was thee, O King,—to fight such power is vain. Thus Anatu will strike thee with disease, Unless thou soon her anger shalt appease; And if thou warrest with such foes divine, The fires of death shall o'er thy kingdom shine. The palm-tree green upon the desert left Doth show that we of hope are not bereft; The gods for us their snares have surely weft,[3] One shall be taken, and the other left."

[Footnote 1: "Ni-takh-garri," "the helpers," or soldiers of Khumbaba.]

[Footnote 2: "Anatu," the consort of Anu.]

[Footnote 3: "Weft," weaved.]

COLUMN II

CONTEST WITH THE DRAGONS IN THE MOUNTAINS—THE SEER IS MORTALLY WOUNDED— HIS CALM VIEW OF THE HEREAFTER

[1]"O Mam-mitu, thou god of fate and death! Thou spirit of fierce hate and parting breath, Thou banisher of joy! O ghastly Law, That gathers countless forces in thy maw! A phantom! curse! and oft a blessing, joy! All Heaven and earth thy hands shall e'er employ. With blessings come, or curses to us bring, The god who fails not with her hovering wing; Nor god, nor man thy coming e'er may ken, O mystery! thy ways none can explain."

If thou must come in earthquakes, fire, and flood, Or pestilence and eftsoons cry for blood, Thou comest oft with voice of sweetest love, Our dearest, fondest passions, hopes, to move; And men have worshipped thee in every form, In fear have praised thee, sought thy feet to charm. We reck not if you blessings, curses bring, For men oft change thy noiseless, ghoulish wing. And yet, thou comest, goddess Mam-mitu, To bring with thee the feet of Nin-a-zu, Two sister ghouls, remorseless, tearless, wan, We fear ye not; ye bu'i-du,[2] begone!

Sweet life renews itself in holy love, Your victory is naught! Ye vainly rove Across our pathway with yours forms inane, For somewhere, though we die, we live again. [3]The soul departed shall in glory shine, As burnished gold its form shall glow divine, And Samas there shall grant to us new life; And Merodac, the eldest son, all strife Shall end in peace in yonder Blest Abode, Where happiness doth crown our glorious God.

[4]The sacred waters there shall ever flow, To Anat's arms shall all the righteous go; The queen of Anu, Heaven's king, our hands Outstretched will clasp, and through the glorious lands Will lead us to the place of sweet delights; The land that glows on yonder blessed heights Where milk and honey from bright fountains flow. And nectar to our lips, all sorrows, woe, Shall end in happiness beside the Stream Of Life, and Joy for us shall ever gleam; Our hearts with thankfulness shall sweetly sing And grander blissfulness each day will bring.

And if we do not reach that spirit realm, Where bodyless each soul may ages whelm With joy unutterable; still we live, With bodies knew upon dear Earth, and give Our newer life to children with our blood. Or if these blessings we should miss; in wood, Or glen, or garden, field, or emerald seas, Our forms shall spring again; in such as these We see around us throbbing with sweet life, In trees or flowerets.

This needs no belief On which to base the fabric of a dream, For Earth her children from death doth redeem, And each contributes to continuous bloom; So go your way! ye sisters, to your gloom!

Far on their road have come the king of fame And seer, within the land of Mas[5] they came, Nor knew that Fate was hovering o'er their way, In gentle converse they have passed the day. Some twenty kaspu o'er the hills and plain, They a wild forest in the mountain gain, In a deep gorge they rode through thickets wild, Beneath the pines; now to a pass they filed, And lo! two dragons[6] near a cave contend Their path! with backs upreared their coils unbend, Extend their ravenous jaws with a loud roar That harshly comes from mouths of clotted gore.

The sky overhead with lowering clouds is cast, Which Anu in his rage above them massed. Dark tempests fly above from Rimmon's breath, Who hovers o'er them with the gods of death; The wicked seven winds howl wildly round, And crashing cedars falling shake the ground. Now Tsil-lattu her black wings spreads o'er all, Dark shrouding all the forest with her pall, And from his steed for safety each dismounts, And o'er their heads now break the ebon founts. But hark! what is that dreadful roaring noise? The dragons come! Their flaming crests they poise Above, and nearer blaze their eyes of fire, And see! upon them rush the monsters dire.

The largest springs upon the giant Sar, Who parrying with the sword he used in war, With many wounds it pierces, drives it back; Again it comes, renews its fierce attack, With fangs outspread its victims to devour, High o'er the monarch's head its crest doth tower, Its fiery breath upon his helm doth glow.

Exposed its breast! he strikes! his blade drives through Its vitals! Dying now it shakes the ground, And furious lashes all the forest round. But hark! what is that awful lingering shriek And cries of woe, that on his ears wild break? A blinding flash, see! all the land reveals, With dreadful roars, and darkness quick conceals The fearful sight, to ever after come Before his eyes, wherever he may roam. The King, alas! too late Heabani drags From the beast's fangs, that dies beneath the crags Overhanging near the cave. And now a din Loud comes from dalkhi that around them spin In fierce delight, while hellish voices rise In harsh and awful mockery; the cries Of agony return with taunting groans, And mock with their fell hate those piteous moans.

Amazed stands Izdubar above his seer, Nor hears the screams, nor the fierce dalkhi's jeer; Beneath the flashing lightnings he soon found The cave, and lays the seer upon the ground. His breaking heart now cries in agony, "Heabani! O my seer, thou must not die! Alas! dread Mam-mitu hath led us here, Awake for me! arouse! my noble seer! I would to gods of Erech I had died For thee! my seer! my strength! my kingdom's pride!"