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. Accursed 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!"

The seer at last revives and turns his face With love that death touched not, his hand doth place With friendly clasp in that of his dear king, And says: "Grieve not, beloved friend, this thing Called death at last must come, why should we fear? 'Tis Hades' mist that opens for thy seer!

"The gods us brought, nor asked consent, and life They give and take away from all this strife That must be here, my life I end on earth; Both joy and sorrow I have seen from birth; To Hades' awful land, whence none return, Heabani's face in sorrow now must turn. My love for thee, mine only pang reveals, For this alone I grieve."

A teardrop steals Across his features, shining 'neath the light The King has lit to make the cavern bright. "But oh, friend Izdubar, my King, when I From this dear earth to waiting Hades fly, Grieve not; and when to Erech you return, Thou shalt in glory reign, and Zaidu learn As thy companion all that thine own heart Desires, thy throne thou wilt to him impart. The female, Samkha, whom he brought to me Is false, in league with thine own enemy. And she will cause thee mischief, seek to drive Thee from thy throne; but do not let her live Within the walls of Erech, for the gods Have not been worshipped in their high abodes. When thou returnest, to the temple go, And pray the gods to turn from thee the blow Of Anu's fury, the strong god, who reigns Above, and sent these woes upon the plains. His anger raised against thee, even thee, Must be allayed, or thy goods thou shalt see, And kingdom, all destroyed by his dread power. But Khasisadra will to thee give more Advice when thou shalt meet the ancient seer, For from thy side must I soon disappear." The seer now ceased, and on his couch asleep Spoke not, and Izdubar alone doth weep.

And thus twelve days were past, and now the seer Of the great change he saw was drawing near Informed his King, who read to him the prayers, And for the end each friendly act prepares, Then said: "O my Heabani, dearest friend, I would that I thy body could defend From thy fierce foe that brings the end to thee. My friend in battle I may never see Again, when thou didst nobly stand beside Me; with my seer and friend I then defied All foes; and must thou leave thy friend, my seer?" "Alas! my King, I soon shall leave thee here."

[Footnote 1: We have here quoted an Accadian hymn to the goddess of fate. ("Trans. Soc. of Bib. Arch.," vol. ii. p. 39.)]

[Footnote 2: "Bu'i-du," ghosts.]

[Footnote 3: Accadian hymn on the future of the just. ("Trans. Soc. of Bib. Arch.," vol. ii. p. 32.)]

[Footnote 4: Assyrian fragmentary hymn ("W.A.I.," iv. 25, col. v.), translated in "Records of the Past," vol. xi. pp. 161, 162.]

[Footnote 5: The land of Mas, Mr. Sayce supposes, was situated west of the Euphrates Valley.]

[Footnote 6: "Dragons." The word for this animal is "tammabuk-ku." It was probably one of the monsters portrayed on the Babylonian cylinders now in the British Museum.]



COLUMN III

HEABANI REVEALS TWO WONDERFUL VISIONS TO THE KING, ONE OF DEATH AND OBLIVION, AND THE OTHER OF HEAVEN, AND DIES IN THE ARMS OF THE KING

"But, oh, my King! to thee I now reveal A secret that my heart would yet conceal, To thee, my friend, two visions I reveal: The first I oft have dreamed beneath some spell Of night, when I enwrapped from all the world, With Self alone communed. Unconscious hurled By winged thought beyond this present life, I seeming woke in a Dark World where rife Was Nothingness,—a darksome mist it seemed, All eke was naught;—no light for me there gleamed; And floating 'lone, which way I turned, saw naught; Nor felt of substance 'neath my feet, nor fraught With light was Space around; nor cheerful ray Of single star. The sun was quenched; or day Or night, knew not. No hands had I, nor feet, Nor head, nor body, all was void. No heat Or cold I felt, no form could feel or see; And naught I knew but conscious entity. No boundary my being felt, or had; And speechless, deaf, and blind, and formless, sad, I floated through dark space,—a conscious blank! No breath of air my spirit moved; I sank I knew not where, till motionless I ceased At last to move, and yet I could not rest, Around me spread the Limitless, and Vast. My cheerless, conscious spirit,—fixed and fast In some lone spot in space was moveless, stark! An atom chained by forces stern and dark, With naught around me. Comfortless I lived In my dread loneliness! Oh, how I grieved! And thus, man's fate in Life and Death is solved With naught but consciousness, and thus involved All men in hopes that no fruition have? And this alone was all that death me gave? That all had vanished, gone from me that life Could give, and left me but a blank, with strife Of rising thoughts, and vain regrets, to float;— Away from life and light, be chained remote!

"Oh, how my spirit longed for some lone crag To part the gloom beneath, and rudely drag My senses back! or with its shock to end My dire existence;—to oblivion send Me quickly! How I strove to curse, and break That soundless Void, with shrieks or cries, to wake That awful silence which around me spread! In vain! in vain! all but my soul was dead. And then my spirit soundless cried within: 'Oh, take me! take me back to Earth again!' For tortures of the flesh were bliss and joy To such existence! Pain can never cloy The smallest thrill of earthly happiness! 'Twas joy to live on earth in pain! I'll bless Thee, gods, if I may see its fields I've trod To kiss its fragrant flowers, and clasp the sod Of mother Earth, that grand and beauteous world! From all its happiness, alas! was hurled My spirit,—then in frenzy—I awoke! Great Bel! a dream it was! as vanished smoke It sped! and I sprang from my couch and prayed To all the gods, and thus my soul allayed. And then with blessings on my lips, I sought My couch, and dropped away in blissful thought In dream the second:

"Then the Silver Sky Came to me. Near the Stream of Life I lie: My couch the rarest flowers; and music thrills My soul! How soft and sweet it sounds from rills And streams, and feathered songsters in the trees Of Heaven's fruits!—e'en all that here doth please The heart of man was there. In a dear spot I lay, 'mid olives, spices, where was wrought A beauteous grotto; and beside me near, Were friends I loved; and one both near and dear With me reclined, in blissful converse, sweet With tender thoughts. Our joy was full, complete! The ministering spirits there had spread Before us all a banquet on the mead, With Heaven's food and nectar for our feast; And oh, so happy! How our joy increased As moments flew, to years without an end! To Courts Refulgent there we oft did wend.

"Beside a silver lake, a holy fane There stood within the centre of the plain, High built on terraces, with walls of gold, Where palaces and mansions there enfold A temple of the gods, that stands within 'Mid feathery palms and gesdin[1] bowers green, The city rises to a dizzy height, With jewelled turrets flashing in the light, Grand mansions piled on mansions rising high Until the glowing summits reach the sky. A cloud of myriad wings, e'er fills the sky, As doves around their nests on earth here fly; The countless millions of the souls on earth, The gods have brought to light from mortal birth, Are carried there from the dark world of doom; For countless numbers more there still is room. Through trailing vines my Love and I oft wind, With arms of love around each other twined. This day, we passed along the Stream of Life, Through blooming gardens, with sweet odors rife; Beneath the ever-ripening fruits we walk, Along dear paths, and sweetly sing, or talk, While warbling birds around us fly in view, From bloom to bloom with wings of every hue; And large-eyed deer, no longer wild, us pass, With young gazelles, and kiss each other's face.

"We now have reached the stately stairs of gold, The city of the gods, here built of old. The pearled pillars rise inlaid divine, With lotus delicately traced with vine In gold and diamonds, pearls, and unknown gems, That wind to capital with blooming stems Of lilies, honeysuckles, and the rose. An avenue of columns in long rows Of varied splendor, leads to shining courts Where skilful spirit hands with perfect arts Have chiselled glorious forms magnificent, With ornate skill and sweet embellishment. Their golden sculpture view on every hand, Or carved images in pearl that stand In clusters on the floor, or in long rows; And on the walls of purest pearl there glows The painting of each act of kindest deed Each soul performs on earth;—is there portrayed.

"The scenes of tenderness and holy love, There stand and never end, but onward move, And fill the galleries of Heaven with joy, And ever spirit artist hands employ. The holiest deeds are carved in purest gold, Or richest gems, and there are stored of old; Within the inner court a fountain stood, Of purest diamond moulded, whence there flowed Into a golden chalice,—trickling cool, The nectar of the gods,—a sparkling pool, That murmuring sank beneath an emerald vase That rested underneath;—the fountain's base.

"We entered then an arcade arching long Through saph'rine galleries, and heard the song That swelling came from temples hyaline; And passed through lazite courts and halls divine, While dazzling glories brighter round us shone. How sweet then came the strains! with grander tone! And, oh, my King! I reached the gates of pearl That stood ajar, and heard the joyous whirl That thrilled the sounding domes and lofty halls, And echoed from the shining jasper walls. I stood within the gate, and, oh, my friend, Before that holy sight I prone did bend, And hid my face upon the jacinth stairs. A shining god raised me, and bade my fears Be flown, and I beheld the glorious throne Of crystaled light; with rays by man unknown. The awful god there sat with brows sublime, With robes of woven gold, and diadem That beamed with blazing splendor o'er his head. I thus beheld the god with presence dread, The King of Kings, the Ancient of the Days, While music rose around with joyous praise. With awful thunders how they all rejoice! And sing aloud with one commingled voice!

"What happiness it was to me, my King! From bower to temple I went oft to sing, Or spread my wings above the mount divine, And viewed the fields from heights cerulean. Those songs still linger on dear memory's ear, And tireless rest upon me, ever cheer. But from the Happy Fields, alas! I woke, And from my sight the Heavenly vision broke; But, oh, my King, it all was but a dream! I hope the truth is such, as it did seem; If it is true that such a Heavenly Land Exists with happiness so glorious, grand, Within that haven I would happy be! But it, alas! is now denied to me. For, oh, my King, to Hades I must go, My wings unfold to fly to Realms of Woe; In darkness to that other world unknown, Alas! from joyous earth my life has flown.

"Farewell, my King, my love thou knowest well; I go the road; in Hades soon shall dwell; To dwelling of the god Irkalla fierce, To walls where light for me can never pierce, The road from which no soul may e'er return, Where dust shall wrap me round, my body urn, Where sateless ravens float upon the air, Where light is never seen, or enters there, Where I in darkness shall be crowned with gloom; With crowned heads of earth who there shall come To reign with Anu's favor or great Bel's, Then sceptreless are chained in their dark cells With naught to drink but Hades' waters there, And dream of all the past with blank despair. Within that world, I too shall ceaseless moan, Where dwell the lord and the unconquered one, And seers and great men dwell within that deep, With dragons of those realms we all shall sleep; Where King Etana[2] and god Ner doth reign With Allat, the dark Under-World's great queen, Who reigns o'er all within her regions lone, The Mistress of the Fields, her mother, prone Before her falls, and none her face withstands; But I will her approach, and take her hands, And she will comfort me in my dread woe. Alas! through yonder void I now must go! My hands I spread! as birds with wings I fly! Descend! descend! beneath that awful sky!" The seer falls in the arms of Izdubar, And he is gone;—'tis clay remaineth here.

[Footnote 1:"Gesdin," the Tree of Life and Immortality.]

[Footnote 2: "Etana," Lord or King of Hades. He is mentioned in the Creation series of Legends as having reigned before the flood.]



COLUMN IV

THE GRIEF OF THE KING OVER THE LOSS OF HIS SEER, AND HIS PRAYER TO THE MOON-GOD, WHO ANSWERS HIS PRAYER WITH A VISION

The King weeps bitterly with flowing tears Above his seer when from him disappears The last faint breath; and then in deepest woe He cries: "And through that desert must I go? Heabani, thou to me wast like the gods; Oh, how I loved thee! must thou turn to clods? Through that dread desert must I ride alone; And leave thee here, Heabani, lying prone? Alas, I leave thee in this awful place, To find our Khasisadra, seek his face, The son of Ubara-tutu, the seer; Oh, how can I, my friend, thus leave thee here? This night through those dark mountains I must go, I can no longer bear this awful woe: If I shall tarry here, I cannot sleep. O Sin, bright moon-god, of yon awful deep! I pray to thee upon my face, oh, hear My prayer! my supplications bring thou near To all the gods! grant thou to me,—e'en me, A heart of strength and will to worship thee.

"Oh, is this death like that the seer hath dreamed? Perhaps the truth then on his spirit gleamed! If Land of Silver Sky is but a myth, The other dream is true! e'en all he saith! Oh, tell me, all ye sparkling stars, That wing above thy glorious flight, And feel not Nature's jars; But grandly, sweetly fling thy light To our bright world beneath serene, Hath mortals on thee known Or viewed beyond,—that great Unseen, Their future fate by gods been shown?

"Oh, hear me, all ye gods on high! To gods who love mankind I pray, Despairing, oh, I cry! Oh, drive these doubts and fears away! And yet—and yet, what truths have we? O wondrous mortal, must thou die? Beyond this end thou canst not see, O Life! O Death! O mystery!

"The body still is here, with feeling dead! And sight is gone!—and hearing from his head, Nor taste, nor smell, nor warmth, nor breath of life! Where is my seer? Perhaps, his spirit rife E'en now in nothingness doth wander lone! In agony his thoughts! with spirit prone! In dread despair!—If conscious then, O gods! He spake the truth!—His body to the clods Hath turned! By this we feel, or hear, or see, And when 'tis gone,—exist?—in agony! To Hades hath he gone? as he hath thought! Alas, the thought is torture, where have wrought The gods their fearful curse! Ah, let me think! The Silver Sky? Alas, its shining brink He hath not crossed. The wrathful gods deny Him entrance! Where, oh, where do spirits fly Whom gods have cursed? Alas, he is condemned To wander lone in that dark world, contemned And from the Light of Happy Fields is barred! Oh, why do gods thus send a fate so hard, And cruel? O dear moon-god, moon-god Sin! My seer hath erred. Receive his soul within To joys prepared for gods and men! Though seer He was, he immortality did fear, As some unknown awakening in space. Oh, turn upon him thy bright blessed face! He was my friend! O moon-god, hear my prayer! Imploring thee, doth pray thine Izdubar!"

And lo! a vision breaks before his eyes! The moon-god hides the shadows of the skies, And sweeps above with his soft, soothing light That streams around his face; he drives the night Before his rays, and with his hands sweet peace He spreads through all the skies; and Strife doth cease! A girdle spans the Heavens with pure light That shines around the River of the Night, Within the circling rays a host appears! The singers of the skies, as blazing spheres! Hark! Hear their harps and lyres that sweetly sound! They sing! Oh, how the glowing skies resound!

"O King of Light and Joy and Peace, Supreme thy love shall ever reign; Oh, can our songs of bliss here cease? Our souls for joy cannot restrain, Sweep! Sweep thy lyres again!

The former things[1] are passed away, Which we on earth once knew below; And in this bright eternal day We happiness alone can know Where bliss doth ever flow."

[Footnote 1: Literally, "the former names," which appears on a fragment of the epic translated by Mr. Sayce. See Smith's "C.A. of Gen.," p. 259, which he has rendered "the former name, the new name."]



COLUMN V

THE KING BURIES HIS SEER IN THE CAVE, AND CONTINUING HIS JOURNEY, HE MEETS TWO FIERY GIANTS WHO GUIDE THE SUN IN THE HEAVENS—THEY MAKE MERRY OVER THE KING, AND DIRECT HIM ON HIS WAY

The King within the cave his seer entombs, And mourning sadly from the cavern comes; The entrance closes with the rocks around, Again upon his journey he is bound. But soon within the mountains he is lost Within the darkness,—as some vessel tost Upon the trackless waves of unknown seas, But further from the awful cavern flees. The morning breaks o'er crags and lonely glens, And he dismayed, the awful wild now scans. He reins his steed and wondering looks around, And sees of every side a mystic ground. Before him stands the peak of Mount Masu,[1] The cliffs and crags forlorn his eyes swift view, And cedars, pines, among the rocks amassed, That weirdly rise within the mountain fast. Hark! hear that dreadful roaring all around! What nameless horror thrills the shaking ground?

The King in terror stares! and see! his steed Springs back! wild snorting,—trembling in his dread. Behold! behold those forms there blazing bright! Fierce flying by the earth with lurid light; Two awful spirits, demons, or fierce gods, With roaring thunders spring from their abodes! From depths beneath the earth the monsters fly, And upward lift their awful bodies high, Yet higher!—higher! till their crests are crowned By Heaven's gates; thus reaching from the ground To heights empyrean, while downward falls Each form, extending far 'neath Hades' walls. And see! each god as molten metal gleams, While sulphurous flame from hell each monster climbs! Two fiery horrors reaching to the skies, While wrathful lightning from each monster flies!

Hell's gate they guard with Death's remorseless face, And hurl the sun around the realms of space E'en swifter than the lightning, while it goes Along its orbit, guided by their blows. Dire tempests rise above from their dread blows, And ever round a starry whirlwind glows; The countless stars thus driven whirl around, With all the circling planets circling round.

The King astounded lifts his staring eyes, Into his face gray fear, with terror flies; As they approach, his thoughts the King collects, Thus over him one of the gods reflects. "Who cometh yonder with the form of gods?" The second says: "He comes from man's abodes, But with a mortal's feebleness he walks; Behold upon the ground alone he stalks."

One lifts his mighty arm across the sky, And strikes the sun as it goes roaring by; The fiery world with whiter heat now glows, While a vast flood of flame behind it flows, That curling, forms bright comets, meteors, And planets multiplies, and blazing stars; The robe of flames spreads vast across the sky, Adorned with starry gems that sparkling fly Upon the ambient ether forming suns That through new orbits sing their orisons; Their pealing thunders rend the trembling sky, The endless anthem of eternity.

The monster turning to the King then says, When nearer now his awful form doth blaze: "So thus you see, my son, the gods are strong, And to provoke great power, is foolish, wrong; But whither goest thou, thou sad-eyed King, What message hast thou;—to us here would bring?"

The King now prostrate to the monsters prayed: "Ye gods or demons, I within your glade Of horrors, have unwilling come to seek Our Khasisadra, who a spell can make To turn the anger of the gods away. Immortal lives the seer beside the sea, He knoweth death and life, all secret things; And this alone your servant to you brings. The goddess sought my hand, which I denied, And Anu's fury thus I have defied; This all my troubles caused, show me the way To Khasisadra, this I ask and pray."

The god's vast face broke out with wondrous smiles, And laughing, ripples rolled along for miles; His mouth wide opened its abyss and yawned, As earthquake gulf, far spreading through the ground. His roaring laughter shakes the earth around, "Ho! ho! my son! so you at last have found The Queen can hate, as well as love her friends, And on thy journey Ishtar's love thee sends? A mortal wise thou wast, to her refuse, For she can do with man what she may choose. A mortal's love, in truth, is wondrous strong, A glorious thing it is, Life's ceaseless song! Within a cave upon the mountain side, Thou there thy footsteps must to Hades guide, Twelve kaspu go to yonder mountain gates, A heart like thine may well defy the fates. A darkness deep profound doth ever spread Within those regions black,—Home of the Dead. Go, Izdubar! within this land of Mas, Thy road doth lead, and to the west[2] doth pass, And may the maidens sitting by the walls Refresh thee, lead thee to the Happy Halls."

The path they take behind the rising sun The setting sun they pass,—with wings have flown The scorpion men,[3] within wide space have gone, Thus from his sight the monsters far have flown.

[Footnote 1: "Mount Masu," the Mountains of Masius, or "Mons Masius" of Strabo (vi. 12, Sec.Sec. 4, 14, 2, etc.), may be referred to by the author of the epic. These mountains are now known to the Turks as Jebel Tur and Karaiah Dag.—Rawlinson's "Ancient Monarchies," vol. ii. pp. 9 and 25.]

[Footnote 2: Mr. Sayce translates thus: "the path of the sun."]

[Footnote 3: He also names the monsters "the scorpion men," and refers to an Assyrian cylinder on which two composite winged monsters are carved, with the winged emblem of the supreme god in the centre above them. The monsters have the feet of lions and the tails of scorpions. See illustration in Smith's revised edition, by Sayce, "Chald. Acc. of Gen.," p. 276. The monsters were supposed to fly ahead of the sun, and as it passed guide it along its orbit.]



COLUMN VI

IZDUBAR ENTERS HADES—THE SONG OF THE DALKHI IN THE CAVERN OF HORRORS—THE KING PASSES THROUGH HADES TO THE GARDEN OF THE GODS, AND SEES THE WONDERFUL FOUNTAIN OF LIFE'S WATERS

In a weird passage to the Under-World, Where demon shades sit with their pinions furled Along the cavern's walls with poisonous breath, In rows here mark the labyrinths of Death. The King with torch upraised, the pathway finds, Along the way of mortal souls he winds, Where shades sepulchral, soundless rise amid Dark gulfs that yawn, and in the blackness hide Their depths beneath the waves of gloomy lakes And streams that sleep beneath the sulphurous flakes That drift o'er waters bottomless, and chasms; Where moveless depths receive Life's dying spasms. Here Silence sits supreme on a drear throne Of ebon hue, and joyless reigns alone O'er a wide waste of blackness,—solitude Black, at her feet, there sleeps the awful flood Of mystery which grasps all mortal souls, Where grisly horrors sit with crests of ghouls, And hateless welcome with their eyes of fire Each soul;—remorseless lead to terrors dire; And ever, ever crown the god of Fate; And there, upon her ebon throne she sate The awful fiend, dark goddess Mam-mitu, Who reigns through all these realms of La-Atzu.[1]

But hark! what are these sounds within the gloom? And see! long lines of torches nearer come! And now within a recess they have gone; The King must pass their door! perhaps some one Of them may see him! turn the hags of gloom Upon him, as he goes by yonder room! He nearer comes, and peers within; and see! A greenish glare fills all the cave! and he Beholds a blaze beneath a cauldron there; Coiled, yonder lie the Dragons of Despair; And lo! from every recess springs a form Of shapeless horror! now with dread alarm He sees the flitting forms wild whirling there, And awful wailings come of wild despair: But hark! the dal-khis' song rings on the air! With groans and cries they shriek their mad despair:

Oh, fling on earth, ye demons dark, Your madness, hate, and fell despair, And fling your darts at each we mark, That we may welcome victims here.

Then sing your song of hate, ye fiends, And hurl your pestilential breath, Till every soul before us bends, And worship here the god of Death.

In error still for e'er and aye, They see not, hear not many things; The unseen forces do not weigh, And each an unknown mystery brings.

In error still for e'er and aye, They delve for phantom shapes that ride Across their minds alone,—and they But mock the folly of man's pride.

In error still for e'er and aye! They learn but little all their lives, And Wisdom ever wings her way, Evading ever,—while man strives!

But hark! another song rings through the gloom, And, oh, how sweet the music far doth come! Oh, hear it, all ye souls in your despair, For joy it brings to sorrowing ones e'en here!

"There is a Deep Unknown beyond, That all things hidden well doth weigh! On man's blind vision rests the bond Of error still for e'er and aye!

"But to the mighty gods, oh, turn For truth to lead you on your way, And wisdom from their tablets learn, And ever hope for e'er and aye!"

And see! the hags disperse within the gloom, As those sweet sounds resound within the room; And now a glorious light doth shine around, Their rays of peace glide o'er the gloomy ground. And lo! 'tis Papsukul, our god of Hope,— With cheerful face comes down the fearful slope Of rugged crags, and blithely strides to where Our hero stands, amid the poisonous air, And says: "Behold, my King, that glorious Light That shines beyond! and eye no more this sight Of dreariness, that only brings despair, For phantasy of madness reigneth here!" The King in wonder carefully now eyes The messenger divine with great surprise, And says: "But why, thou god of Hope, do I Thus find thee in these realms of agony? This World around me banishes thy feet From paths that welcome here the god of Fate And blank despair, and loss irreparable. Why comest thou to woe immeasurable?"

"You err, my King, for hope oft rules despair; I ofttimes come to reign with darkness here; When I am gone, the god of Fate doth reign; When I return, I soothe these souls again." "So thus you visit all these realms of woe, To torture them with hopes they ne'er can know? Avaunt! If this thy mission is on Earth Or Hell, thou leavest after thee but dearth!" "Not so, my King! behold yon glorious sphere, Where gods at last take all these souls from here! Adieu! thou soon shalt see the World of Light, Where joy alone these souls will e'er delight."

The god now vanishes away from sight, The hero turns his face toward the light; Nine kaspu walks, till weird the rays now gleam, As zi-mu-ri behind the shadows stream. He sees beyond, umbrageous grots and caves, Where odorous plants entwine their glistening leaves. And lo! the trees bright flashing gems here bear! And trailing vines and flowers do now appear, That spread before his eyes a welcome sight, Like a sweet dream of some mild summer night. But, oh! his path leads o'er that awful stream, Across a dizzy arch 'mid sulphurous steam That covers all the grimy bridge with slime. He stands perplexed beside the waters grime, Which sluggish move adown the limbo black, With murky waves that writhe demoniac,— As ebon serpents curling through the gloom And hurl their inky crests, that silent come Toward the yawning gulf, a tide of hate; And sweep their dingy waters to Realms of Fate.

He cautious climbs the slippery walls of gloom, And dares not look beneath, lest Fate should come; He enters now the stifling clouds that creep Around the causeway, while its shadows sleep Upon the stream that sullen moves below,—

He slips!—and drops his torch! it far doth glow Beneath him on the rocks! Alas, in vain He seeks a path to bring it back again. It moves! snatched by a dal-khu's hand it flies Away within the gloom, then falling dies Within those waters black with a loud hiss That breaks the silence of that dread abyss.

He turns again, amid the darkness gropes, And careful climbs the cragged, slimy slopes, And now he sees, oh, joy! the light beyond! He springs! he flies along the glowing ground, And joyous dashes through the waving green That lustrous meets his sight with rays serene, Where trees pure amber from their trunks distil, Where sweet perfumes the groves and arbors fill, Where zephyrs murmur odors from the trees, And sweep across the flowers, carrying bees With honey laden for their nectar store; Where humming sun-birds upward flitting soar O'er groves that bear rich jewels as their fruit, That sparkling tingle from each youngling shoot, And fill the garden with a glorious blaze Of chastened light and tender thrilling rays. He glides through that enchanted mystic world, O'er streams with beds of gold that sweetly twirled With woven splendor 'neath the blaze of gems That crown each tree with glistening diadems. The sounds of streams are weft with breezes, chant Their arias with trembling leaves,—the haunt Of gods! O how the tinkling chorus rings!— With rhythms of the unseen rustling wings Of souls that hover here where joy redeems Them with a happiness that ever gleams.

The hero stands upon a damasked bed Of flowers that glow beneath his welcome tread, And softly sink with 'luring odors round, And beckon him to them upon the ground. Amid rare pinks and violets he lies, And one sweet pink low bending near, he eyes. With tender petals thrilling on its stem, It lifts its fragrant face and says to him, "Dear King, wilt thou love me as I do thee? We love mankind, and when a mortal see We give our fragrance to them with our love, Their love for us our inmost heart doth move." The King leans down his head, it kissing, says, "Sweet beauty, I love thee? with thy sweet face? My heart is filled with love for all thy kind. I would that every heart thy love should find." The fragrant floweret thrills with tenderness, With richer fragrance answers his caress. He kisses it again and lifts his eyes, And rises from the ground with glad surprise.

And see! the glorious spirits clustering round! They welcome him with sweet melodious sound. We hear their golden instruments of praise, As they around him whirl a threading maze; In great delight he views their beckoning arms, And lustrous eyes, and perfect, moving forms. And see! he seizes one bright, charming girl, As the enchanting ring doth nearer whirl; He grasps her in his arms, and she doth yield The treasure of her lips, where sweets distilled Give him a joy without a taint of guilt. It thrills his heart-strings till his soul doth melt, A kiss of chastity, and love, and fire, A joy that few can dare to here aspire. The beauteous spirit has her joy, and flees With all her sister spirits 'neath the trees. And lo! the gesdin[2] shining stands, With crystal branches in the golden sands, In this immortal garden stands the tree, With trunk of gold, and beautiful to see. Beside a sacred fount the tree is placed, With emeralds and unknown gems is graced, Thus stands, the prince of emeralds,[3] Elam's tree, As once it stood, gave Immortality To man, and bearing fruit, there sacred grew, Till Heaven claimed again Fair Eridu.[4]

The hero now the wondrous fountain eyes; Its beryl base to ruby stem doth rise, To emerald and sapphire bands that glow, Where the bright curvings graceful outward flow; Around the fountain to its widest part, The wondrous lazite bands now curling start And mingle with bright amethyst that glows, To a broad diamond band,—contracting grows To uk-ni stone, turquoise, and clustering pearls, Inlaid with gold in many curious curls Of twining vines and tendrils bearing birds, Among the leaves and blooming flowers, that words May not reveal, such loveliness in art, With fancies spirit hands can only start From plastic elements before the eye, And mingle there the charms of empery. Beneath two diamond doves that shining glow Upon the summit, the bright waters flow, With aromatic splendors to the skies, While glistening colors of the rainbow rise.

Here ends the tablet,[5] "When the hero viewed The fountain which within the garden stood."

[Footnote 1: "La-Atzu," Hades, hell, the spirit-world.]

[Footnote 2: "Gesdin," the Tree of Life and Immortality.]

[Footnote 3: See Sayce's edition Smith's "Chald. Acc. of Gen.," p. 264.]

[Footntoe 4: "Eridu," the Garden of Eden. Idem, pp. 84-86.]

[Footnote 5: "Tablet of the series; when the hero Izdubar saw the fountain."—Sayce's edition Smith's "Chald. Acc. of Gen.," p. 264, l. 14.]



TABLET VIII—COLUMN I

THE KING'S ADVENTURE AT THE GATE OF THE GARDEN OF THE GODS WITH THE TWO MAIDENS—ONE OF THEM LEADS HIM INTO THE HAPPY HALLS—SONGS OF THE SABITU AND ZI-SI.

A gate half opened shows the silvery sea Yet distant shining lambent on his way. And now he sees young Siduri,[1] whose breast Infuses life; all nature she hath blest, Whose lips are flames, her arms are walls of fire, Whose love yields pleasures that can never tire, She to the souls who joy on earth here miss, Grants them above a holier, purer bliss. The maiden sits within a holy shrine Beside the gate with lustrous eyes divine, And beckons to the King, who nearer comes, And near her glows the Happy Palace domes.

And lo! 'tis she his lips have fondly kissed Within the garden, when like fleeing mist She disappeared with the bright spirit Seven,[2] The Sabit, who oft glide from earth to Heaven. And lo! one of the Seven, Sabitu, Emerging from the gate doth jealous view The coming hero who hath kissed her mate, She angry springs within to close the gate, And bars it, enters then the inner halls, And Izdubar to her now loudly calls, "O Sabitu! what see-est thou, my maid? Of Izdubar is Sabitu afraid? Thy gate thou barrest thus before my face. Quick, open for me! or I'll force the brass!" The maid now frightened opens wide the door. The Sar and Siduri now tread the floor Of the bright palace where sweet joy doth reign. Through crystal halls 'neath golden roofs the twain Next go within a lofty ceilinged hall, With shining pearled columns, golden wall, And purple silken hangings at each door, With precious gems inlaid upon the floor; Where couches grand are spread for one to rest Beneath the softened rays that sweet invest The senses with a thrill of happiness; Where Siduri with joy all souls doth bless. The maid sits on a couch and turns her face Toward the King with that immortal grace That love to gods and men will e'er bestow. Their eyes now mingling with a happy glow, The maiden sweetly says: "Where wouldst thou go? Within these Happy Halls we joy but know, And if thou wilt, my King, my heart is thine! Our love will ever bring us bliss divine."

"Alas, my maid, thy love to me is dear, And sad am I that I must go from here. I came from Erech by advice from one I loved more than thou canst e'er know, but gone From me is my Heabani, faithful seer. Across a desert waste have I come here, And he has there to dust returned,—to dust— O how the love of my friend I did trust! I would that we had never started here, I now must find the great immortal seer."

The maiden turns her glowing eyes on him, Replies: "My King, thou knowest joy may gleam, Take courage, weary heart, and sing a song! The hour of sorrow can never be long; The day will break, and flood thy soul with joy, And happiness thy heart will then employ! Each day must end with all its sorrow, woe, Oh, sing with me, dear heart! I love thee so!" And lo! the curtains flung aside, now comes The joyous Sabitu from yonder rooms, And gathering round, a song they gayly sing, Oh, how with music the bright walls now ring! If evil thou hast done, my King,

Oh, pray! oh, pray! And to the gods thy offerings bring, And pray! and pray! The sea is roaring at thy feet, The storms are coming, rain and sleet; To all the gods, Oh, pray to them! oh, pray!

Chorus

To all the gods, Oh, pray to them! oh, pray!

Thy city we will bless, O Sar! With joy, with joy! And prosper thee in peace and war With joy, with joy! And bless thee every day and night, Thy kingly robes keep pure and bright; Give thee bright dreams, O glorious king of war!

Chorus

Give thee bright dreams, O glorious king of war!

And if thy hand would slay thy foes In war, in war! With thee returning victory goes In war, in war! We grant thee victory, my King; Like marshes swept by storms, we bring Our power to thee With victory in war!

Chorus

Our power to thee With victory in war!

And if thou wouldst the waters pass, The sea, the sea! We'll go with thee in every place, With thee, with thee! To Hea's halls and glorious throne, Where he unrivalled reigns alone, To Hea go Upon his throne of snow.

Chorus

To Hea go Upon his throne of snow.

And if thine anger rules thy heart As fire, as fire! And thou against thy foes would start With ire, with ire! Against thy foes thy heart be hard, And all their land with fire be scarred, Destroy thy foes! Destroy them in thine ire!

Chorus

Destroy thy foes! Destroy them in thine ire!

And lo! young Siduri hath disappeared, And with the Zisi crowned she now appeared; The corn-gods in a crescent round their queen, She waves before the king her Nusku[3] green, And sings with her sweet voice a joyful lay, And all the Zisi join the chorus gay:

[4]A heifer of the corn am I, Kara! Kara![5] Yoked with the kine we gayly fly, Kara! Kara! The ploughman's hand is strong and drives The glowing soil, the meadow thrives! Before the oxen Sa-lum-mat-u na-si.[6]

Chorus

Before the oxen Sa-lum-mat-u na-si.

The harvesters are in the corn! Kara! Kara! Our feet are flying with the morn, Kara! Kara! We bring thee wealth! it is thine own! The grain is ripe! oh, cut it down! The yellow grain Sa-lum-mat-u na-si.

Chorus

The yellow grain Sa-lum-mat-u na-si.

The fruit of death, oh, King, taste it not! Taste not! taste not! With fruit of Life the land is fraught Around! around! The fruit of Life we give to thee And happiness, oh, ever see. All joy is thine Through Earth and Heaven's bound.

Chorus

All joy is thine Through Earth and Heaven's bound.

Our corn immortal there is high And ripe! and ripe! And ever ripens 'neath that sky As gold! as gold! Our corn is bearded,[7] thus 'tis known, And ripens quickly when 'tis grown. Be joy with thee, Our love around thee fold!

Chorus

Be joy with thee, Our love around thee fold!

Our King from us now goes, now goes! Away! away! His royal robe behind him glows Afar! afar! Across the waves where Hea reigns The waters swollen he soon gains! To our great seer, He sails to him afar!

Chorus

To our great seer, He sails to him afar!

And he will reach that glorious land Away! away! Amid our fruit-trees he will stand That day! that day! Our fruit so sweet the King will eat, Nor bitter mingle with the sweet. In our seer's land That glows afar away!

Chorus

In our seer's land That glows afar away!

The singing spirits from them fled, and he Alone stood thinking by young Siduri.

The King leaned on his bow, and eyed the maid, A happy look came in his eyes,—and fled, For lo! the curtain quick aside is pushed, And Sabitu within upon them rushed. She stately glides across the shining floor, And eyes them both, then turns toward the door. But Izdubar is equal to the task, With grace now smiling, of the maid doth ask: "O Sabitu! wouldst thou tell me the way To Khasisadra? for I go this day. If I the sea may cross, how shall I go? Or through the desert? thou the path mayst know." The maiden startled looks upon his face, And thus she answers him with queenly grace: "So soon must go? Thou canst not cross the sea, For thou wilt perish in the waves that way. Great Samas once the way of me did ask, And I forbade him, but the mighty task He undertook, and crossed the mighty deep, Where Death's dark waters lie in wait asleep: His mighty car of gold swept through the skies, With fiery chargers now he daily flies. When I approach thee, thou from me wouldst flee? But if thou must so soon thus go, the sea Perhaps thou too canst cross, if thou wilt 'void Death's waters, which relentless ever glide. But Izdubar, Ur-Hea, here hath come! The boatman of the seer, who to his home Returns. He with an axe in yonder woods A vessel builds to cross the raging floods. If thou desirest not to cross with him, We here will welcome thee through endless time; But if thou goest, may they see thy face Thou seekest,—welcome thee, and thy heart bless."

[Footnote 1: "Siduri," the "pourer" or "shedder forth," the "all-bountiful," the goddess who brings the rain, and mists, and running streams to fill the vegetable world with its productions; the goddess who presides over productive nature. She was also called "the Goddess of Wisdom."]

[Footnote 2: Seven spirits of the earth and heaven, the daughters of Hea.]

[Footnote 3: "Nusku," a budding or blooming shrub or branch, the wand of the Queen, used in magical incantations, which was called the plant of Nusku, the divining-rod.]

[Footnote 4: See Accadian songs, "C.I.W.A.," vol. ii. 15, 16, and translated by Mr. Sayce in "Records of the Past, vol. xi. pp. 154, 155.]

[Footnote 5: "Kara!" cry out, sing, shout.]

[Footnote 6: "Sa-lum-mat-u na-si," lift up the shadows, or be joyful.]

[Footnote 7: "Our corn is bearded." This refers to the heads of wheat which are bearded. See translation by Mr. Sayce, "the corn is bearded." ("Records of the Past," vol. xi. p. 156.)]



COLUMN II

THE KING ON LEAVING THE HAPPY HALLS MEETS UR-HEA, THE BOATMAN OF THE SEER KHASISADRA—THEY BUILD A SHIP AND EMBARK ON AN UNKNOWN SEA, AND ON THEIR VOYAGE PASS THROUGH THE WATERS OF DEATH

And Izdubar turned from the Halls and goes Toward a fountain in the park, whence flows A merry stream toward the wood. He finds An axe beside the fount, and thoughtful winds, Through groves of sandal-wood and mastic-trees And algum, umritgana. Now he sees The sig-a-ri and ummakana, pines, With babuaku; and ri-wood brightly shines Among the azuhu; all precious woods That man esteems are grown around, each buds Continuous in the softened, balmy air. He stops beneath a musrilkanna where The pine-trees spread toward the glowing sea, Wild mingled with the surman, sa-u-ri.

The King, now seated, with himself communes, Heeds not the warbling of the birds, and tunes Of gorgeous songsters in the trees around, But sadly sighing gazes on the ground: "And I a ship must build; alas! I know Not how I shall return, if I thus go. The awful Flood of Death awaits me there, Wide-stretching from this shore—I know not where." He rests his chin upon his hand in thought, Full weary of a life that woe had brought; He says: "When I remember Siduri, Whose heart with fondest love would comfort me Within these Happy Halls, why should I go To pain and anguish, death, mayhap, and woe? But will I thus desert my kingdom, throne? For one I know not! What! my fame alone! Mine honor should preserve! and royal state! Alas! this Fame is but a dream of—Fate!

"A longing after that which does not cheer The heart. Applause of men, or thoughtless sneer, Is naught to me, I am alone! alone! This Immortality cannot atone For my hard fate that wrings mine aching heart. I long for peace and rest, and I must start And find it, leave these luring bright abodes,— I seek the immortality of gods. This Fame of man is not what it doth seem, It sleeps with all the past, a vanished dream. My duty calls me to my kingdom, throne! To Khasisadra go, whose aid alone Can save my people from an awful fate That hangs above them, born of Fiends of hate. And I shall there return without my seer! I live; and he is dead. Why did I hear His words advising me to come? Alas! I sadly all my weary days shall pass; No one shall love me as my seer, my friend.

"But what said Siduri?—There comes an end At last to sorrow, joy will hopeful spring On wings of Light! Oh, how my heart will sing! I bless ye all, ye holy spirits here! Your songs will linger with me, my heart cheer; Upon my way I turn with joy again! How true your joyful song! your memory then Will keep me hopeful through yon darkened way; How bright this land doth look beside the sea!"

He looks across the fields; the river glows And winds beside taprani-trees, and flows By teberinth and groves of tarpikhi And ku-trees; curving round green mez-kha-i, Through beds of flowers, that kiss its waves and spring Luxuriant,—with songs the groves far ring. Now thinking of the ship, he turns his eyes, Toward the fountain,—springs up with surprise! "'Tis he! the boatman comes! Ur-Hea comes! And, oh! at last, I'll reach the glistening domes Of Khasisadra's palaces,—at last My feet shall rest,—upon that land be placed."

And now Ur-Hea nearer makes his way, And Izdubar addressing him, doth say: "Ur-Hea is thy name? from yonder sea Thou comest, from the seer across the way?"

"Thou speakest truth, great Sar, what wouldst thou have?" "How shall I Khasisadra reach? The grave He hath escaped, Immortal lives beyond, For I to him upon my way am bound; Shall I the waters cross or take my way Through yon wide desert, for I start this day?"

"Across the sea we go, for I with thee Return to him,—I know the winding way. Thine axe of bronze with precious stones inlaid With mine, we'll use beneath the pine-trees' shade."

And now, within the grove a ship they made, Complete and strong as wise Ur-Hea bade. They fell the pines five gar in length, and hew The timbers square, and soon construct a new And buoyant vessel, firmly fixed the mast, And tackling, sails, and oars make taut and fast. Thus built, toward the sea they push its prow, Equipped complete, provisioned, launch it now. An altar next they raise and thus invoke The gods, their evil-workings to revoke:

"[1]O Lord of Charms, Illustrious! who gives Life to the Dead, the Merciful who lives, And grants to hostile gods of Heaven return, To homage render, worship thee, and learn Obedience! Thou who didst create mankind In tenderness, thy love round us, oh, wind! The Merciful, the God with whom is Life, Establish us, O Lord, in darkest strife. O never may thy truth forgotten be, May Accad's race forever worship thee."

One month and fifteen days upon the sea, Thus far the voyagers are on their way; Now black before them lies a barren shore, O'ertopped with frowning cliffs, whence comes a roar Of some dread fury of the elements That shakes the air and sweeping wrath foments O'er winds and seas. And see! a yawning cave, There opens vast into a void dislave, Where fremed shadows ride the hueless waves. Dread Ninazu whose deathless fury craves For hapless victims lashes with a roar The mighty seas upon that awful shore. The Fiends of Darkness gathered lie in wait, With Mammitu, the goddess of fierce hate, And Gibil[2] with his spells, and Nibiru[3] The twin-god of black Fate, and grim Nusku[4] The keeper of red thunders, and Urbat[5] The dog of Death, and fiend of Queen Belat;[6] And Nuk-khu, and the black-browed Ed-hutu[7] The gods of darkness here with Tsi-lat-tu.[8]

And see! Dark Rimmon[9] o'er a crag alone! And Gibil with his blasting malisoun, Above with his dark face maleficent, Who wields a power o'er men omnipotent Forlore! forlore! the souls who feel that blast Which sweeps around that black forbidding coast! Fierce whirling storms and hurricanes here leap, With blasting lightnings maltalent and sweep The furious waves that lash around that shore, As the fierce whirl of some dread maelstrom's power! Above the cavern's arch! see! Ninip[10] stands! He points within the cave with beckoning hands! Ur-Hea cries: "My lord! the tablets[11] say, That we should not attempt that furious way! Those waters of black death will smite us down! Within that cavern's depths we will but drown." "We cannot go but once, my friend, that road," The hero said, "'Tis only ghosts' abode!" "We go, then, Izdubar, its depths will sound, But we within that gloom will whirl around, Around, within that awful whirlpool black,— And once within, we dare not then turn back,— How many times, my friend, I dare not say, 'Tis written, we within shall make our way."

The foaming tide now grasped them with its power, And billowed round them with continuous roar; Away! they whirl! with growing speed, till now They fly on lightnings' wings and ride the brow Of maddened tempests o'er the dizzy deep. So swift they move,—the waves in seeming sleep Beneath them, whirling there with force unseen.

But see! Updarting with a sulphurous gleen, The hag of Death leaps on the trembling prow! Her eyes, of fire and hate, turns on them now! With famine gaunt, and haggard face of doom, She sits there soundless in the awful gloom.

"O gods!" shrieked Izdubar in his despair, "Have I the god of Fate at last met here? Avaunt, thou Fiend! hence to thy pit of Hell! Hence! hence! and rid me of thy presence fell!"

And see! she nearer comes with deathless ire, With those fierce, moveless, glaring eyes of fire! Her wand is raised! she strikes!

"O gods!" he screams; He falls beneath that bolt that on them gleams, And she is gone within the awful gloom. Hark! hear those screams! "Accurst! Accurst thy doom!" And lo! he springs upon his feet in pain, And cries: "Thy curses, fiend! I hurl again!" And now a blinding flash disparts the black And heavy air, a moment light doth break; And see! the King leans fainting 'gainst the mast, With glaring eyeballs, clenched hands,—aghast! Behold! that pallid face and scaly hands! A leper white, accurst of gods, he stands! A living death, a life of awful woe, Incurable by man, his way shall go. But oh! the seer in all enchantments wise Will cure him on that shore, or else he dies.

And see! the vessel's prow with shivering turns, Adown the roaring flood that gapes and churns Beneath like some huge boiling cauldron black, Thus whirl they in the slimy cavern's track. And spirit ravens round them fill the air, And see! they fly! the cavern sweeps behind! Away the ship doth ride before the wind! The darkness deep from them has fled away, The fiends are gone!—the vessel in the spray With spreading sails has caught the glorious breeze, And dances in the light o'er shining seas; The blissful haven shines upon their way, The waters of the Dawn sweep o'er the sea! They proudly ride up to the glowing sand, And joyfully the King springs to the land.

[Footnote 1: This remarkable prayer is to be found among a collection of prayers which are numbered and addressed to separate deities. It seems that the prayers were originally Accadian, and were afterward adopted by the Assyrians, and made to apply to one god (Hea). Professor Oppert and Professor Sayce think, however, that they are connected in one hymn to Hea. This may have been so after the Assyrians adopted them, but they are distinct, and addressed to separate gods. The one we have selected is addressed to Hea, the Creator of Mankind, Sayce edition Smith's "C.A.G.," pp. 75 to 80. The one we have selected is found at the top of page 77, idem.]

[Footnote 2: "Gibil," the god of fire, of spells and witchcraft.]

[Footnote 3: "Nibiru," the god of fate, and ruler of the stars.]

[Footnote 4: "Nusku," the gatekeeper of thunders.]

[Footnote 5: "Urbat," the dog of Death.]

[Footnote 6: "Belat" or "Allat," the Queen of Hades.]

[Footnote 7: "Ed-hutu," god of darkness.]

[Footnote 8: "Tsi-lat-tu," shades of night.]

[Footnote 9: "Rimmon," god of storms.]

[Footnote 10: "Ninip," god of bravery and war.]

[Footnote 11: "Tablets." This may mean charts or scrolls similar to the charts used by modern navigators. Babylon communicated with all nations in commerce.]



COLUMN III

KHASISADRA ON THE SHORE SEES THE VESSEL COMING, AND RETURNING TO HIS PALACE, SENDS HIS DAUGHTER MUA TO WELCOME IZDUBAR—MEETING OF THE KING AND SAGE

Beneath a ku-tree Khasisadra eyes The spreading sea beneath the azure skies, An aged youth with features grave, serene, Matured with godly wisdom; ne'er was seen Such majesty, nor young, nor old,—a seer In purpose high. The countenance no fear Of death has marred, but on his face sublime The perfect soul has left its seal through time.

"Ah, yes! the dream was clear, the vision true, I saw him on the ship! Is it in view? A speck! Ah, yes! He comes! he comes to me My son from Erech comes across the sea!" Back to his palace goes the holy seer, And Mua[1] sends, who now the shore doth near; As beautiful as Waters of the Dawn, Comes Mua here, as graceful as a fawn.

The King now standing on the glistening sand, Beholds the beauteous Mua where she stands, With hands outstretched in welcome to the King, "O thou sweet spirit, with thy snowy wing, Oh, where is Khasisadra in this land? I seek the aid of his immortal hand." "Great Sar," said Mua, "hadst thou not a seer, That thou shouldst come to seek my father here?"

"'Tis true, my daughter dear, a seer had I, Whom I have lost,—a dire calamity; By his advice and love I undertake This journey. But alas! for mine own sake He fell by perils on this lengthened way; He was not strong, and feared that he should lay Himself to rest amid the mountains wild. He was a warrior, with him I killed Khumbaba, Elam's king who safely dwelt Within a forest vast of pines, and dealt Destruction o'er the plains. We razed his walls— My friend at last before me dying falls.

"Alas! why did my seer attempt to slay The dragons that we met upon the way, He slew his foe, and like a lion died. Ah, me! the cause, when I the gods defied, And brought upon us all this awful woe; In sorrow o'er his death, my life must flow! For this I came to find the ancient seer, Lead me to him, I pray, if he lives here."

Then Mua leads him through the glorious land Of matchless splendor, on the border grand Of those wide Happy Fields that spread afar O'er beaming hills and vales, where ambient air With sweetest zephyrs sweeps a grand estrade, Where softest odors from each flowering glade Lull every sense aswoon that breathes not bliss And harmony with World of Blessedness. 'Neath trees of luring fruits she leads the way, Through paths of flowers where night hath fled away, A wilderness of varied crystal flowers, Where fragrance rests o'er clustering, shining bowers. Each gleaming cup its nectared wine distils, For spirit lips each chalice ever fills.

Beyond the groves a lucent palace shone In grandest splendor near an inner zone; In amethyst and gold divinely rose, With glories scintillant the palace glows. A dazzling halo crowns its lofty domes, And spreading from its summit softly comes With grateful rays, and floods the balustrades And golden statues 'neath the high arcades; A holy palace built by magic hand With wondrous architecture, portals grand, And aurine turrets piled to dizzy heights, Oh, how its glory Izdubar delights!

Beneath majestic arcades carved, they pass, Up golden steps that shine like polished glass, Through noble corridors with sculptured walls, By lofty columns, archways to the halls Of glories, the bright harbinger of fanes Of greater splendor of the Heavenly plains. Beneath an arch of gems the King espies A form immortal, he who death defies. Advancing forth the sage his welcome gives, "'Tis Izdubar who comes to me and lives!" Embracing him he leads him in a room, Where many a curious graven tablet, tome, And scrolls of quaint and old forgotten lore Have slept within for centuries of yore. The tablets high are heaped, the alcoves full, Where truth at last has found a welcome goal. In wisdom's room, the sage his guest has led, And seats him till the banquet high is spread; Of Izdubar he learns his journeys great, How he for aid has left his throne of state.

The maid now comes, him welcomes to the hall Of banquets, where are viands liberal, And fruits, immortal bread, celestial wines Of vintage old; and when the hero dines, They lead him to his private chamber room That overlooks the wondrous garden's bloom Across the plain and jasper sea divine, To Heaven's mountains rising sapphirine. Four beauteous streams of liquid silver lead Across the plain; the shining sea they feed; The King reclines upon his couch at rest, With dreams of happiness alone is blest.

[Footnote 1: "Mua," the waters of the dawn, the daughter of Khasisadra.]



COLUMN IV

THE KING IS CURED BY THE INCANTATIONS OF KHASISADRA AND HE BECOMES IMMORTAL

When Izdubar awakes, they lead the way To the bright fount beside the jasper sea. The seer, with Mua and Ur-Hea, stands Beside the King, who holily lifts his hands Above an altar where the glowing rays Of sacred flames are curling; thus he prays:

"Ye glorious stars that shine on high, Remember me! Oh, hear my cry, Su-ku-nu,[1] bright Star of the West! Dil-gan, my patron star, oh, shine! O Mar-bu-du, whose rays invest Dear Nipur[2] with thy light divine, The flames that shines, upon the Waste! O Papsukul, thou Star of Hope, Sweet god of bliss, to me, oh, haste, Before I faint and lifeless drop! O Adar,[3] Star of Ninazu, Be kind! O Ra-di-tar-tu-khu. Sweet U-tu-ca-ga-bu,[4] dear Star With thy pure face that shines afar!

"Oh, pardon me! each glorious Star! Za-ma-ma,[5] hear me! O Za-ma-ma! Ca-ca-ma u Ca-ca-ma."[6]

"[7]Remember him! O dear Za-ma-ma! Ca-ca-ma u Ca-ca-ma."

As Izdubar doth end his holy prayer He kneels, and they now bear his body where A snowy couch doth rest beneath a shrine That stands near by the glowing fount divine, And Khasisadra lifts his holy hands, His incantation chants, and o'er him stands.

"O Bel, Lord of An-nu-na-ci, O Nina, Hea's daughter! Zi![8] This Incantation aid, Remember us, Remember!

"[9]Ye tempests of High Heaven, be still! Ye raging lightnings, oh, be calm! From this brave man his strength is gone, Before thee see him lying ill! Oh, fill with strength his feeble frame, O Ishtar, shine from thy bright throne! From him thine anger turn away, Come from thy glowing mountains, come! From paths untrod by man, oh, haste! And bid this man arise this day. With strength divine as Heaven's dome, His form make pure and bright and chaste! The evil curse, oh, drive away!

"Go! A-sac-cu-kab-bi-lu,[10] go! O Nam-ta-ru-lim-nu,[11] oh, fly! U-tuc-cu-lim-nu[12] from him flow! A-lu-u-lim-nu,[13] hence! away! E-ci-mu-lim-nu,[14] go! thou fiend! Fly, Gal-lu-u-lim-nu,[15] afar! Fly from his head! his life! I send Thee, fiend! depart from Izdubar! Go from his forehead, breast, and heart, And feet! Avaunt! thou fiend! depart! Oh, from the Curse, Thou Spirit High! And Spirit of the Earth, come nigh! Protect him, may his spirit fly! O Spirit of the Lord of Lands, And Goddess of the Earthly Lands, Protect him! raise with strength his hands!

"Oh, make him as the Holy Gods, His body, limbs, like thine Abodes, And like the Heavens may he shine! And like the Earth with rays divine! Quick! with the khis-ib-ta[16] to bring High Heaven's Charm—bind round his brow! The sis-bu[17] place around his hands! And let the sab-u-sat[18] bright cling! The mus-u-kat[19] lay round him now, And wrap his feet with rad-bat-bands,[20] And open now his zik-a-man[21] The sis-bu cover, and his hands The bas-sat[22] place around his form! From baldness and disease, this man Cleanse, make him whole, head, feet, and hands!

"O Purity, breathe thy sweet charm!

"Restore his health and make his skin Shine beautifully, beard and hair Restore! make strong with might his loins! And may his body glorious shine As the bright gods!—

Ye winds him bear! Immortal flesh to his soul joins! Thou Spirit of this man! arise! Come forth with joy! Come to the skies!"

And lo! his leprosy has fled away! He stands immortal,—purged! released from clay!

[Footnote 1: "Su-ku-nu" or "Kak-si-di," the star of the West.]

[Footnote 2: "Nipur," the city from which Izdubar came.]

[Footnote 3: "Adar," the star of Ninazu, the goddess of death, who cursed him with leprosy in the cavern. This star was also called "Ra-di-tar-tu-khu."]

[Footnote 4: "U-tu-ca-ga-bu," the star with the white or pure face.]

[Footnote 5: "Za-ma-ma," another name for Adar. This is the deity for whom Izdubar or Nammurabi built the great temple whose top, in the language of the Babylonians, reached the skies. It was afterward called the "Tower of the Country" or "Tower of Babylon." This was perhaps the Tower of Babel. He also restored another temple called "Bite-muris," which was dedicated to the same goddess.]

[Footnote 6: "Amen and amen!" The word "amen" is usually repeated three times.]

[Footnote 7: The response of the priest Khasi-sadra.]

[Footnote 8: "Zi," spirits.]

[Footnote 9: See "T.S.B.A.," vol. ii. p. 31.]

[Footnote 10: "A-sac-cu-kab-bi-lu," evil spirit of the head.]

[Footnote 11: "Nam-ta-ru-lim-nu," evil spirit of the life or heart.]

[Footnote 12: "U-tuc-cu-lim-nu," evil spirit of the forehead.]

[Footnote 13: "A-lu-u-lim-nu," evil spirit of the breast.]

[Footnote 14: "E-ci-mu-lim-nu," evil spirit of the stomach.]

[Footnote 15: "Gal-lu-u-lim-nu," evil spirit of the hands.]

[Footnote 16: "Khis-ib-ta," a strip of parchment or linen on which was inscribed a holy text, a charm like that used by the Jews, a philactery.]

[Footnote 17: "Sis-bu," the same as the preceding.]

[Footnote 18: "Sab-u-sat," was perhaps a holy cloth, also inscribed in the same manner.]

[Footnote 19: "Mus-u-kat," was also of the same character as the preceding.]

[Footnote 20: "Rad-bat-bands," similar bands to the khis-ib-ta.]

[Footnote 21: "Zik-a-man," this is unknown, it perhaps was the inner garment.]

[Footnote 22: "Bas-sat," supposed to be the outside or last covering placed over the person so treated. That some such ceremony was performed in the case of Izdubar seems to be undoubted. See "Trans. Soc. Bib. Arch.," vol. ii. p. 31; also Sayce's edition Smith's "C.A. of G.," p. 290.]



COLUMN V

IZDUBAR FALLS IN LOVE WITH MUA, AND OFFERS HER HIS HAND

"O Mua! thou bright Waters of the Dawn! Oh, where art thou?" one cries as he doth run Through the bright garden. See! 'tis Izdubar! Immortal! glorious! our King of War! And now in love is seeking Mua here. He scarcely treads the ground as he comes near; A glow of youth immortal on his cheek, A form that sorrow, death, will never seek Within these Happy Fields, his eyes with light That Love alone may give, show his delight.

A dazzling pillared vista round him shines, Where golden columns bear the bowering shrines, With gemmed domes that clustering round him rise, 'Mid fruit-trees, flashing splendors to the skies. He goes through silver grots along a zone, And now he passes yonder blazing throne, O'er diamond pavements, passes shining seats Whereon the high and holy conclave meets To rule the empires vast that spread away To utmost bounds in all their vast array. Around the whole expanse grand cestes spread O'er paths sidereal unending lead. As circling wheels within a wheel they shine, Enveloping the Fields with light divine. A noontide glorious of shining stars, Where humming music rings from myriad cars, Where pinioned multitudes their harps may tune, And in their holy sanctity commune.

And see! here Mua comes! she stops and waits Within a gesdin bower beside its gates. Around, above her spreads a flowering vine, And o'er a ruby fountain almandine. And on a graven garnet table grand, Carved cups of solid pearl and tilpe[1] stand. A Zadu[2] reservoir stands near, which rounds The fount wherein the fragrant nectar bounds. The ground is strewn with pari[3] gems and pearls, Wherefrom the light now softly backward hurls Its rays o'er couches of paruti[4] stone, Soft cushioned, circling in the inner zone Beside the shining kami-sadi way,[5] Where nectar fountains in their splendor play. The path leads far along Life's beauteous stream, That ever through this World of Joy doth gleam.

And see! the hero comes! and now doth near The maiden, where with Love she waits him here. She flings a flowering garland, weaves it round His form as he comes by! He turns around, And she enwraps his breast and arms, and says:

"Dear Izdubar! and thus my lover strays! I'll bind thee with this fragrant chain to keep Thee ever by my side! thy pleasant sleep Hath kept my lover from my side too long!"

"O thou sweet spirit, like a warbling song Thy words are to my heart! I sought for thee, And thy bright face and presence did not see; I come to tell thee that I must return, When from thy father all the past shall learn."

"And wilt thou go from me to earth again? No! no! dear Izdubar, I thee enchain!"

"'Tis true, my love, I must return to men; My duty calls me to my throne again."

"Dear Izdubar! my friend! my love! my heart! I cannot let thee from my soul depart! Thou shinest in my breast as some bright star! And shall I let thee from me go afar?"

"But Mua, we immortal are, and we There might return; and thou on earth shalt see The glories of my kingdom,—be my queen! Upon a couch I'll seat thee, there to reign With me, my beauteous queen,—beside me sit; And kings will come to us and kiss thy feet. With all my wealth I'll clothe thee, ever love Thee, fairest of these glorious souls that move Within this Happy World. My people there Shall love us,—ever drive away all care!"

When Mua heard him offer thus his hand, She then unbinds him,—thoughtful now doth stand.

[Footnote 1: "Tilpe," a precious gem known only to the Babylonians.]

[Footnote 2: "Zadu," a precious gem known only to the Babylonians.]

[Footnote 3: "Pari," an unknown gem.]

[Footnote 4: "Paruti," an unknown gem.]

[Footnote 5: "Kami-sadi" way, a path paved with unknown gems. These precious stones are mentioned on the various inscriptions in the list of precious jewels with gold, diamonds, pearls, etc., taken as spoils from their enemies.]



COLUMN VI

MUA'S ANSWER

Sweet Mua lifts her eyes toward the heights That glow afar beneath the softened lights That rest upon the mountain's crystalline. And see! they change their hues incarnadine To gold, and emerald, and opaline; Swift changing to a softened festucine Before the eye. And thus they change their hues To please the sight of every soul that views Them in that Land; but she heeds not the skies, Or glorious splendor of her home; her eyes Have that far look of spirits viewing men On earth, from the invisible mane, That erstwhile rests upon the mortal eye,— A longing for that home beyond the sky; A yearning for that bliss that love imparts, Where pain and sorrow reach no mortal hearts.

A light now breaks across her beauteous face; She, turning, says to him with Heavenly grace:

"Dear Izdubar, thou knowest how I love Thee, how my heart my love doth daily prove; And, oh, I cannot let thee go alone. I know not what awaits each soul there gone. Our spirits often leave this glorious land, Invisible return on earth, and stand Amidst its flowerets, 'neath its glorious skies. Thou knowest every spirit here oft flies From earth, but none its secrets to us tell, Lest some dark sorrow might here work its spell. And, oh, I could not see dark suffering, woe There spread, with power none to stop its flow!

"I saw thee coming to us struck with fire, Oh, how to aid thee did my heart desire! Our tablets tell us how dread sorrow spreads Upon that world and mars its glowing meads. But, oh, so happy am I, here to know That they with us here end all sorrow, woe. O precious Izdubar! its sights would strike Me there with sadness, and my heart would break! And yet I learn that it is glorious, sweet! To there enjoy its happiness,—so fleet It speeds to sorrowing hearts to turn their tears To joy! How sweet to them when it appears, And sends a gleam of Heaven through their lives!

"No! no! dear heart! I cannot go! It grieves Thee! come, my dear one! quick to us return; We here again will pair our love, and learn How sweet it is to meet with joy again; How happy will sweet love come to us then!"

She rests her head upon his breast, and lifts Her face for Love's sweet kiss, and from them drifts A halo o'er the shining gesdin-trees And spreads around them Heaven's holy rays. He kisses her sweet lips, and brow, and eyes, Then turns his gaze toward the glowing skies:

"I bless thee, for thy sweetest spirit here! I bless this glorious land, that brings me near To one that wafts sweet Heaven in my heart; From thy dear plains how can my soul depart? O Mua, Mua! how my heart now sings! Thy love is sweeter than all earthly things! I would I were not crowned a king!—away From this bright land—here would I ever stay! As thou hast said, I soon will here return; The earth cannot withhold me from this bourne, And soon my time allotted there will end, And hitherward how happy I will wend!"

"And when thou goest, how my love shall there Guard thee, and keep thy heart with Mua here. Another kiss!"

Her form doth disappear Within the garden, gliding through the air. He seats himself upon a couch and rests His head upon his hand, and thought invests Him round. His memory returns again To Erech's throne, and all the haunts of men. He rises, turns his footsteps to the halls, And thoughtful disappears within its walls.



CUNEIFORM INSCRIPTIONS

[Translated by various Babylonian and Assyrian Scholars]



CUNEIFORM INSCRIPTIONS

BABYLONIAN EXORCISMS

TRANSLATED BY REV. A.H. SAYCE, M.A.

The charms translated below will illustrate the superstition of the Assyrians and Babylonians. Like the Jews of the Talmud, they believed that the world was swarming with noxious spirits who produced the various diseases to which man is liable, and might be swallowed with the food and the drink that support life. They counted no less than 300 spirits of heaven and 600 spirits of earth. All this, with the rest of their mythology, was borrowed by the Assyrians from the primitive population of Babylonia, who spoke an agglutinative language akin to the dialects of the Finnic or Tatar tribes. The charms are written in this ancient language, but Assyrian translations are appended in a column to the right of the tablet. The legends are lithographed in the "Cuneiform Inscriptions of Western Asia," Vol. II, plates 17 and 18. They have been translated by M. Oppert in the "Journal Asiatique" of January, 1873, and an analytical rendering of them is given by M. Fr. Lenormant in his "Etudes Accadiennes" II, I (1874).



TRANSLATION OF THE EXORCISMS

TABLET I

The noxious god, the noxious spirit of the neck, the neck-spirit of the desert, the neck-spirit of the mountains, the neck-spirit of the sea, the neck-spirit of the morass, the noxious cherub of the city, this noxious wind which seizes the body (and) the health of the body. Spirit of heaven remember, spirit of earth remember.



TABLET II

The burning spirit of the neck which seizes the man, the burning spirit of the neck which seizes the man, the spirit of the neck which works evil, the creation of an evil spirit. Spirit of heaven remember, spirit of earth remember.



TABLET III

Wasting, want of health, the evil spirit of the ulcer, spreading quinsy of the gullet, the violent ulcer, the noxious ulcer. Spirit of heaven remember, spirit of earth remember.



TABLET IV

Sickness of the entrails, sickness of the heart, the palpitation of a sick heart, sickness of bile, sickness of the head, noxious colic, the agitation of terror, flatulency[1] of the entrails, noxious illness, lingering sickness, nightmare. Spirit of heaven remember, spirit of earth remember.

[Footnote 1: Literally, "opposition."]



TABLET V

He who makes an image (which) injures the man,[1] an evil face, an evil eye, an evil mouth, an evil tongue, evil lips, an evil poison. Spirit of heaven remember, spirit of earth remember.

[Footnote 1: Here we have a reference to a custom well known in the Middle Ages. A waxen figure was made, and as it melted before the fire the person represented by it was supposed, similarly to waste away. It will be remembered that Horace ("Sat." i, 8, 30 sq.) speaks of the waxen figure made by the witch Canidia in order that the lover might consume away in the fires of love. Roman and mediaeval sorcery had its origin in that of ancient Accad.]



TABLET VI

The cruel spirit, the strong spirit of the head, the head-spirit that departs not, the head-spirit that goes not forth, the head-spirit that will not go, the noxious head-spirit. Spirit of heaven remember, spirit of earth remember.



TABLET VII

The poisonous spittle of the mouth[1] which is noxious to the voice, the phlegm which is destructive to the ..., the pustules of the lungs, the pustule of the body, the loss of the nails, the removal (and) dissolving of old excrement, the skin which is stripped off, the recurrent ague of the body, the food which hardens in a man's body, the food which returns after being eaten, the drink which distends after drinking, death by poison, from the swallowing of the mouth which distends, the unreturning wind from the desert. Spirit of heaven remember, spirit of earth remember.

[Footnote 1: That would be consumption.]



TABLET VIII

May Nin-cigal,[1] the wife of Nin-a'su, turn her face toward another place; may the noxious spirit go forth and seize another; may the propitious cherub and the propitious genie settle upon his body. Spirit of heaven remember, spirit of earth remember.

[Footnote 1: "Nin-cigal" ("The Lady of the Mighty Earth") was Queen of Hades and a form of "Allat" or "Istar." She is also identified with Gula or Bahu (the Bohu or "Chaos" of Gen. i. 2), "The Lady of the House of Death," and wife of Hea or Nin-a'su.]



TABLET IX

May Nebo, the great steward, the recliner (or incubus) supreme among the gods, like the god who has begotten him, seize upon his head; against his life may he not break forth. Spirit of heaven remember, spirit of earth remember.



TABLET X

(On) the sick man by the sacrifice of mercy may perfect health shine like bronze; may the Sun-god give this man life; may Merodach, the eldest son of the deep (give him) strength, prosperity, (and) health. Spirit of heaven remember, spirit of earth remember.



ACCADIAN HYMN TO ISTAR

TRANSLATED BY REV. A.H. SAYCE, M.A.

The following is one of the many early Chaldean hymns that were incorporated into a collection which M. Lenormant has aptly compared with the Rig-Veda of India. The concluding lines show that it originally belonged to the city of Erech (now Warka). The date of its composition must be exceedingly remote, and this increases the interest of the astronomical allusions contained in it. The original Accadian text is given, with an interlinear Assyrian translation, as is usually the case with hymns of this kind. The terra-cotta tablet on which it is found is numbered S, 954, being one of those that have been recently brought back from Assyria by Mr. George Smith, who has translated the Reverse in his "Assyrian Discoveries," pp. 392, 393. I owe a copy of the text to the kindness of Mr. Boscawen. It is of considerable importance for the study of Assyrian grammar.



ACCADIAN HYMN TO ISTAR

OBVERSE

1 Light of heaven, who like the fire dawnest on the world, (art) thou. 2 Goddess in the earth, in thy fixed abode, 3 who dawnest[1] like the earth, (art) thou. 4 (As for) thee, prosperity approaches thee. 5 To the house of men in thy descending (thou goest). 6 A hyena, which as they go in warlike strength are made to march, (art) thou. 7 A lion, which into the midst is wont to march, (art) thou. 8 Day (is thy) servant, heaven (thy) canopy. 9 The servant of Istar;[2] heaven (is thy) canopy. 10 Princess of the four cities, head of the sea,[3] heaven (is thy) canopy. 11 The exalted of the Sun-god, heaven (is thy) canopy. 12 For the revolver of the seasons sanctuaries I build, a temple I build. 13 For my father the Moon-god, the revolver of the seasons, sanctuaries I build, a temple I build. 14 For my brother the Sun-god, the revolver of the seasons, sanctuaries I build, a temple I build. 15 (As for) me, for Nannaru[4] I build the precinct, for the revolver of seasons sanctuaries I build, a temple I build. 16 In heaven he laid the hand; for the revolver of seasons sanctuaries I build, a temple I build. 17 In the beginning (thou art) my begetter; in the beginning (thou art) my begetter. 18 In the beginning the goddess spoke thus to men: 19 The Lady of heaven,[5] the divinity of the zenith, (am) I. 20 The Lady of heaven, the divinity of the dawn, (am) I. 21 The Queen of heaven, the opener of the locks of the high heaven, my begetter. 22 Heaven she benefits, earth she enlightens;[6] my begetter. 23 The benefiter of heaven, the enlightener[7] of earth; my begetter.