Project Gutenberg's Babylonian and Assyrian Literature, by Anonymous
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Title: Babylonian and Assyrian Literature
Author: Anonymous
Release Date: January 31, 2004 [EBook #10887]
Language: English
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BABYLONIAN AND ASSYRIAN LITERATURE
COMPRISING THE EPIC OF IZDUBAR, HYMNS, TABLETS, AND CUNEIFORM INSCRIPTIONS
WITH A SPECIAL INTRODUCTION BY EPIPHANIUS WILSON, A.M.
REVISED EDITION
1901
SPECIAL INTRODUCTION
The great nation which dwelt in the seventh century before our era on the banks of Tigris and Euphrates flourished in literature as well as in the plastic arts, and had an alphabet of its own. The Assyrians sometimes wrote with a sharp reed, for a pen, upon skins, wooden tablets, or papyrus brought from Egypt. In this case they used cursive letters of a Phoenician character. But when they wished to preserve their written documents, they employed clay tablets, and a stylus whose bevelled point made an impression like a narrow elongated wedge, or arrow-head. By a combination of these wedges, letters and words were formed by the skilled and practised scribe, who would thus rapidly turn off a vast amount of "copy." All works of history, poetry, and law were thus written in the cuneiform or old Chaldean characters, and on a substance which could withstand the ravages of time, fire, or water. Hence we have authentic monuments of Assyrian literature in their original form, unglossed, unaltered, and ungarbled, and in this respect Chaldean records are actually superior to those of the Greeks, the Hebrews, or the Romans.
The literature of the Chaldeans is very varied in its forms. The hymns to the gods form an important department, and were doubtless employed in public worship. They are by no means lacking in sublimity of expression, and while quite unmetrical they are proportioned and emphasized, like Hebrew poetry, by means of parallelism. In other respects they resemble the productions of Jewish psalmists, and yet they date as far back as the third millennium before Christ. They seem to have been transcribed in the shape in which we at present have them in the reign of Assurbanipal, who was a great patron of letters, and in whose reign libraries were formed in the principal cities. The Assyrian renaissance of the seventeenth century B.C. witnessed great activity among scribes and book collectors: modern scholars are deeply indebted to this golden age of letters in Babylonia for many precious and imperishable monuments. It is, however, only within recent years that these works of hoar antiquity have passed from the secluded cell of the specialist and have come within reach of the general reader, or even of the student of literature. For many centuries the cuneiform writing was literally a dead letter to the learned world. The clue to the understanding of this alphabet was originally discovered in 1850 by Colonel Rawlinson, and described by him in a paper read before the Royal Society. Hence the knowledge of Assyrian literature is, so far as Europe is concerned, scarcely more than half a century old.
Among the most valuable of historic records to be found among the monuments of any nation are inscriptions, set up on public buildings, in palaces, and in temples. The Greek and Latin inscriptions discovered at various points on the shores of the Mediterranean have been of priceless value in determining certain questions of philology, as well as in throwing new light on the events of history. Many secrets of language have been revealed, many perplexities of history disentangled, by the words engraven on stone or metal, which the scholar discovers amid the dust of ruined temples, or on the cippus of a tomb. The form of one Greek letter, perhaps even its existence, would never have been guessed but for its discovery in an inscription. If inscriptions are of the highest critical importance and historic interest, in languages which are represented by a voluminous and familiar literature, how much more precious must they be when they record what happened in the remotest dawn of history, surviving among the ruins of a vast empire whose people have vanished from the face of the earth?
Hence the cuneiform inscriptions are of the utmost interest and value, and present the greatest possible attractions to the curious and intelligent reader. They record the deeds and conquests of mighty kings, the Napoleons and Hannibals of primeval time. They throw a vivid light on the splendid sculptures of Nineveh; they give a new interest to the pictures and carvings that describe the building of cities, the marching to war, the battle, by sea and land, of great monarchs whose horse and foot were as multitudinous as the locusts that in Eastern literature are compared to them. Lovers of the Bible will find in the Assyrian inscriptions many confirmations of Scripture history, as well as many parallels to the account of the primitive world in Genesis, and none can give even a cursory glance at these famous remains without feeling his mental horizon widened. We are carried by this writing on the walls of Assyrian towns far beyond the little world of the recent centuries; we pass, as almost modern, the day when Julius Cæsar struggled in the surf of Kent against the painted savages of Britain. Nay, the birth of Romulus and Remus is a recent event in comparison with records of incidents in Assyrian national life, which occurred not only before Moses lay cradled on the waters of an Egyptian canal, but before Egypt had a single temple or pyramid, three millenniums before the very dawn of history in the valley of the Nile.
But the interest of Assyrian Literature is not confined to hymns, or even
to inscriptions. A nameless poet has left in the imperishable tablets of a
Babylonian library an epic poem of great power and beauty. This is the
Epic of Izdubar.
At Dur-Sargina, the city where stood the palace of Assyrian monarchs three thousand years ago, were two gigantic human figures, standing between the winged bulls, carved in high relief, at the entrance of the royal residence. These human figures are exactly alike, and represent the same personage—a Colossus with swelling thews, and dressed in a robe of dignity. He strangles a lion by pressing it with brawny arm against his side, as if it were no more than a cat. This figure is that of Izdubar, or Gisdubar, the great central character of Assyrian poetry and sculpture, the theme of minstrels, the typical hero of his land, the favored of the gods. What is called the Epic of Izdubar relates the exploits of this hero, who was born the son of a king in Ourouk of Chaldea. His father was dethroned by the Elamites, and Izdubar was driven into the wilderness and became a mighty hunter. In the half-peopled earth, so lately created, wild beasts had multiplied and threatened the extermination of mankind. The hunter found himself at war with monsters more formidable than even the lion or the wild bull. There were half-human scorpions, bulls with the head of man, fierce satyrs and winged griffins. Deadly war did Izdubar wage with them, till as his period of exile drew near to a close he said to his mother, "I have dreamed
The dream was long in being fulfilled, but at last Izdubar was told of a monstrous jinn, whose name was Heabani; his head was human but horned; and he had the legs and tail of a bull, yet was he wisest of all upon earth. Enticing him from his cave by sending two fair women to the entrance, Izdubar took him captive and led him to Ourouk, where the jinn married one of the women whose charms had allured him, and became henceforth the well-loved servant of Izdubar. Then Izdubar slew the Elamite who had dethroned his father, and put the royal diadem on his own head. And behold the goddess Ishtar (Ashtaroth) cast her eyes upon the hero and wished to be his wife, but he rejected her with scorn, reminding her of the fate of Tammuz, and of Alala the Eagle, and of the shepherd Taboulon—all her husbands, and all dead before their time. Thus, as the wrath of Juno pursued Paris, so the hatred of this slighted goddess attends Izdubar through many adventures. The last plague that torments him is leprosy, of which he is to be cured by Khasisadra, son of Oubaratonton, last of the ten primeval kings of Chaldea. Khasisadra, while still living, had been transported to Paradise, where he yet abides. Here he is found by Izdubar, who listens to his account of the Deluge, and learns from him the remedy for his disease. The afflicted hero is destined, after being cured, to pass, without death, into the company of the gods, and there to enjoy immortality. With this promise the work concludes.
The great poem of Izdubar has but recently been known to European scholars, having been discovered in 1871 by the eminent Assyriologist, Mr. George Smith. It was probably written about 2000 B.C., though the extant edition, which came from the library of King Assurbanipal in the palace at Dur-Sargina, must bear the date of 600 B.C. The hero is supposed to be a solar personification, and the epic is interesting to modern writers not only on account of its description of the Deluge, but also for the pomp and dignity of its style, and for its noble delineation of heroic character.
[Signature: Epiphanius Wilson]
CONTENTS
THE EPIC OF ISHTAR AND IZDUBAR:
The Invocation.
The Fall of Erech.
The Rescue of Erech.
Coronation of Izdubar.
Ishtar and Her Maids.
Izdubar Falls in Love with Ishtar.
Ishtar's Midnight Courtship.
The King's Second Dream.
Izdubar Relates His Second Dream.
Heabani, the Hermit Seer.
Expedition of Zaidu.
Heabani Resolves to Return.
Heabani's Wisdom.
In Praise of Izdubar and Heabani.
Zaidu's Return.
The Two Maidens Entice the Seer.
Festival in Honor of Heabani.
Izdubar Slays the Midannu.
Annual Sale of the Maidens of Babylon.
Council in the Palace.
The King at the Shrine of Ishtar.
The King at the Temple of Samas.
Expedition against Khumbaba.
Conflict of the Rival Giants.
Coronation of Izdubar.
The King's Answer and Ishtar's Rage.
Ishtar Complains to Anu.
Fight with the Winged Bull of Anu.
The Curse of Ishtar.
Ishtar Weaves a Spell Over Izdubar.
Ishtar's Descent to Hades.
Effect of Ishtar's Imprisonment in Hades.
Papsukul Intercedes for Ishtar.
Release of Ishtar.
Tammuz Restored to Life.
Escape of Tammuz from Hades.
The King and the Seer Converse.
Contest with the Dragons.
Heabani Reveals Visions to the King.
Grief of the King Over Heabani.
Burial of the Seer.
Izdubar Enters Hades.
The King's Adventure.
The King Meets Ur-hea.
Mua Welcomes Izdubar.
The King Becomes Immortal.
Izdubar Falls in Love with Mua.
Mua's Answer.
TABLETS AND CUNEIFORM INSCRIPTIONS:
Babylonian Exorcisms.
Accadian Hymn to Istar.
Annals of Assur-Nasi-Pal.
Assyrian Sacred Poetry.
Assyrian Talismans and Exorcisms.
Ancient Babylonian Charms.
Inscription of Tiglath Pileser I.
The Revolt in Heaven.
The Legend of the Tower of Babel.
An Accadian Penitential Psalm.
The Black Obelisk of Shalmaneser II.
Inscription of Nebuchadnezzar.
Accadian Poem on the Seven Evil Spirits.
Chaldean Hymns to the Sun.
Two Accadian Hymns.
Accadian Proverbs and Songs.
Babylonian Public Documents.
Babylonian Private Contracts.
Great Inscription of Khorsabad.
ISHTAR AND IZDUBAR
[Translated by Leonidas Le Cenci Hamilton, M.A.]
ALCOVE I
TABLET I: COLUMN I
INVOCATION
O love, my queen and goddess, come to me;
My soul shall never cease to worship thee;
Come pillow here thy head upon my breast,
And whisper in my lyre thy softest, best.
And sweetest melodies of bright Sami,[1]
Our Happy Fields[2] above dear Subartu;[3]
Come nestle closely with those lips of love
And balmy breath, and I with thee shall rove
Through Sari[4] past ere life on earth was known,
And Time unconscious sped not, nor had flown.
Thou art our all in this impassioned life:
How sweetly comes thy presence ending strife,
Thou god of peace and Heaven's undying joy,
Oh, hast thou ever left one pain or cloy
Upon this beauteous world to us so dear?
To all mankind thou art their goddess here.
To thee we sing, our holiest, fairest god,
The One who in that awful chaos trod
And woke the Elements by Law of Love
To teeming worlds in harmony to move.
From chaos thou hast led us by thy hand,
[5]Thus spoke to man upon that budding land:
"The Queen of Heaven, of the dawn am I,
The goddess of all wide immensity,
For thee I open wide the golden gate
Of happiness, and for thee love create
To glorify the heavens and fill with joy
The earth, its children with sweet love employ."
Thou gavest then the noblest melody
And highest bliss—grand nature's harmony.
With love the finest particle is rife,
And deftly woven in the woof of life,
In throbbing dust or clasping grains of sand,
In globes of glistening dew that shining stand
On each pure petal, Love's own legacies
Of flowering verdure, Earth's sweet panoplies;
By love those atoms sip their sweets and pass
To other atoms, join and keep the mass
With mighty forces moving through all space,
Tis thus on earth all life has found its place.
Through Kisar,[6] Love came formless through the air
In
Oh, could we hear those whispering roses sweet,
Three beauties bending till their petals meet,
And blushing, mingling their sweet fragrance there
In language yet unknown to mortal ear.
Their whisperings of love from morn till night
Would teach us tenderly to love the right.
O Love, here stay! Let chaos not return!
With hate each atom would its lover spurn
In air above, on land, or in the sea,
O World, undone and lost that loseth thee!
For love we briefly come, and pass away
For other men and maids; thus bring the day
Of love continuous through this glorious life.
Oh, hurl away those weapons fierce of strife!
We here a moment, point of time but live,
Too short is life for throbbing hearts to grieve.
Thrice holy is that form that love hath kissed,
And happy is that man with heart thus blessed.
Oh, let not curses fall upon that head
Whom love hath cradled on the welcome bed
Of bliss, the bosom of our fairest god,
Or hand of love e'er grasp the venging rod.
Oh, come, dear Zir-ri,[7] tune your lyres and lutes,
And sing of love with chastest, sweetest notes,
Of Accad's goddess Ishtar, Queen of Love,
And Izdubar, with softest measure move;
Great Samas'[8] son, of him dear Zir-ri sing!
Of him whom goddess Ishtar warmly wooed,
Of him whose breast with virtue was imbued.
He as a giant towered, lofty grown,
As Babil's[9] great pa-te-si[10] was he known,
His armèd fleet commanded on the seas
And erstwhile travelled on the foreign leas;
His mother Ellat-gula[11] on the throne
From Erech all Kardunia[12] ruled alone.
[Footnote 1: "Samu," heaven.]
[Footnote 2: "Happy Fields," celestial gardens, heaven.]
[Footnote 3: "Subartu," Syria.]
[Footnote 4: "Sari," plural form of "saros," a cycle or measurement of time used by the Babylonians, 3,600 years.]
[Footnote 5: From the "Accadian Hymn to Ishtar," terra-cotta tablet numbered "S, 954," one of the oldest hymns of a very remote date, deposited in the British Museum by Mr. Smith. It comes from Erech, one of the oldest, if not the oldest, city of Babylonia. We have inserted a portion of it in its most appropriate place in the epic. See translation in "Records of the Past," vol. v. p. 157.]
[Footnote 6: "Kisar," the consort or queen of Sar, father of all the gods.]
[Footnote 7: "Zir-ri" (pronounced "zeer-ree"), short form of "Zi-aria," spirits of the running rivers—naiads or water-nymphs.]
[Footnote 8: "Samas," the sun-god.]
[Footnote 9: Babil, Babylon; the Accadian name was "Diu-tir," or "Duran."]
[Footnote 10: "Pa-te-si," prince.]
[Footnote 11: "Ellat-gula," one of the queens or sovereigns of Erech, supposed to have preceded Nammurabi or Nimrod on the throne. We have identified Izdubar herein with Nimrod.]
[Footnote 12: "Kardunia," the ancient name of Babylonia.]
COLUMN II
THE FALL OF ERECH
O Moon-god,[1] hear my cry! With thy pure light
Oh, take my spirit through that awful night
That hovers o'er the long-forgotten years,
To sing Accadia's songs and weep her tears!
'Twas thus I prayed, when lo! my spirit rose
On fleecy clouds, enwrapt in soft repose;
And I beheld beneath me nations glide
In swift succession by, in all their pride:
The earth was filled with cities of mankind,
And empires fell beneath a summer wind.
The soil and clay walked forth upon the plains
In forms of life, and every atom gains
A place in man or breathes in animals;
And flesh and blood and bones become the walls
Of palaces and cities, which soon fall
To unknown dust beneath some ancient wall.
All this I saw while guided by the stroke
Of unseen pinions:
Then amid the smoke
That rose o'er burning cities, I beheld
White Khar-sak-kur-ra's[2] brow arise that held
The secrets of the gods—that felt the prore
Of Khasisadra's ark; I heard the roar
Of battling elements, and saw the waves
That tossed above mankind's commingled graves.
The mighty mountain as some sentinel
Stood on the plains alone; and o'er it fell
A halo, bright, divine; its summit crowned
With sunbeams, shining on the earth around
And o'er the wide expanse of plains;—below
Lay Khar-sak-kal-ama[3] with light aglow,
And nestling far away within my view
Stood Erech, Nipur, Marad, Eridu,
And Babylon, the tower-city old,
In her own splendor shone like burnished gold.
And lo! grand Erech in her glorious days
Lies at my feet. I see a wondrous maze
Of vistas, groups, and clustering columns round,
Within, without the palace;—from the ground
Of outer staircases, massive, grand,
Stretch to the portals where the pillars stand.
A thousand carvèd columns reaching high
To silver rafters in an azure sky,
And palaces and temples round it rise
With lofty turrets glowing to the skies,
And massive walls far spreading o'er the plains,
Here live and move Accadia's courtly trains,
And see! the pit-u-dal-ti[4] at the gates,
And masari[5] patrol and guard the streets!
And yonder comes a kis-ib, nobleman,
With a young prince; and see! a caravan
Winds through the gates! With men the streets are filled!
And chariots, a people wise and skilled
In things terrestrial, what science, art,
Here reign! With laden ships from every mart
The docks are filled, and foreign fabrics bring
From peoples, lands, where many an empire, king,
Have lived and passed away, and naught have left
In history or song. Dread Time hath cleft
Us far apart; their kings and kingdoms, priests
And bards are gone, and o'er them sweep the mists
Of darkness backward spreading through all time,
Their records swept away in every clime.
Those alabaster stairs let us ascend,
And through this lofty portal we will wend.
See! richest Sumir rugs amassed, subdue
The tilèd pavement with its varied hue,
Upon the turquoise ceiling sprinkled stars
Of gold and silver crescents in bright pairs!
And gold-fringed scarlet curtains grace each door,
And from the inlaid columns reach the floor:
From golden rods extending round the halls,
Bright silken hangings drape the sculptured walls.
But part those scarlet hangings at the door
Of yon grand chamber! tread the antique floor!
Behold the sovereign on her throne of bronze,
While crouching at her feet a lion fawns;
The glittering court with gold and gems ablaze
With ancient splendor of the glorious days
Of Accad's sovereignty. Behold the ring
Of dancing beauties circling while they sing
With amorous forms in moving melody,
The measure keep to music's harmony.
Hear! how the music swells from silver lute
And golden-stringèd lyres and softest flute
And harps and tinkling cymbals, measured drums,
While a soft echo from the chamber comes.
But see! the sovereign lifts her jewelled hand,
The music ceases at the Queen's command;
And lo! two chiefs in warrior's array,
With golden helmets plumed with colors gay,
And golden shields, and silver coats of mail,
Obeisance make to her with faces pale,
Prostrate themselves before their sovereign's throne
In silence brief remain with faces prone,
What word have ye for me? what new surprise?"
Tur-tau-u,[7] rising, says, "O Dannat[8] Queen!
Thine enemy, Khum-baba[9] with Rim-siu[10]
With clanging shields, appears upon the hills,
And Elam's host the land of Sumir fills."
"Away, ye chiefs! sound loud the nappa-khu![11]
Send to their post each warrior bar-ru!"[12]
The gray embattlements rose in the light
That lingered yet from Samas'[13] rays, ere Night
Her sable folds had spread across the sky.
Thus Erech stood, where in her infancy
The huts of wandering Accads had been built
Of soil, and rudely roofed by woolly pelt
O'erlaid upon the shepherd's worn-out staves,
And yonder lay their fathers' unmarked graves.
Their chieftains in those early days oft meet
Upon the mountains where they Samas greet,
With their rude sacrifice upon a tree
High-raised that their sun-god may shining see
Their offering divine; invoking pray
For aid, protection, blessing through the day.
Beneath these walls and palaces abode
The spirit of their country—each man trod
As if his soul to Erech's weal belonged,
And heeded not the enemy which thronged
Before the gates, that now were closed with bars
Of bronze thrice fastened.
See the thousand cars
And chariots arrayed across the plains!
The marching hosts of Elam's armèd trains,
The archers, slingers in advance amassed,
With black battalions in the centre placed,
With chariots before them drawn in line,
Bedecked with brightest trappings iridine,
While gorgeous plumes of Elam's horses nod
Beneath the awful sign of Elam's god.
On either side the mounted spearsmen far
Extend; and all the enginery of war
Are brought around the walls with fiercest shouts,
And from behind their shields each archer shoots.
Thus Erech is besieged by her dread foes,
And she at last must feel Accadia's woes,
And feed the vanity of conquerors,
Who boast o'er victories in all their wars.
Great Subartu[14] has fallen by Sutu[15]
And Kassi,[16] Goim[17] fell with Lul-lu-bu,[18]
Thus Khar-sak-kal-a-ma[19] all Eridu[20]
O'erran with Larsa's allies; Subartu
With Duran[21] thus was conquered by these sons
Of mighty Shem and strewn was Accad's bones
Throughout her plains, and mountains, valleys fair,
Unburied lay in many a wolf's lair.
Oh, where is Accad's chieftain Izdubar,
Her mightiest unrivalled prince of war?
The turrets on the battlemented walls
Swarm with skilled bowmen, archers—from them falls
A cloud of wingèd missiles on their foes,
Who swift reply with shouts and twanging bows;
And now amidst the raining death appears
The scaling ladder, lined with glistening spears,
But see! the ponderous catapults now crush
The ladder, spearsmen, with their mighty rush
Of rocks and beams, nor in their fury slacked
As if a toppling wall came down intact
Upon the maddened mass of men below.
But other ladders rise, and up them flow
The tides of armèd spearsmen with their shields;
From others bowmen shoot, and each man wields
A weapon, never yielding to his foe,
For death alone he aims with furious blow.
At last upon the wall two soldiers spring,
A score of spears their corses backward fling.
But others take their place, and man to man,
And spear to spear, and sword to sword, till ran
The walls with slippery gore; but Erech's men
Are brave and hurl them from their walls again.
And now the battering-rams with swinging power
Commence their thunders, shaking every tower;
And miners work beneath the crumbling walls,
Alas! before her foemen Erech falls.
Vain are suspended chains against the blows
Of dire assaulting engines.
Ho! there goes
The eastern wall with Erech's strongest tower!
And through the breach her furious foemen pour:
A wall of steel withstands the onset fierce,
But thronging Elam's spears the lines soon pierce,
A band of chosen men there fight to die,
Before their enemies disdain to fly;
The masari[22] within the breach thus died,
And with their dying shout the foe defied.
The foes swarm through the breach and o'er the walls,
And Erech in extremity loud calls
Upon the gods for aid, but prays for naught,
While Elam's soldiers, to a frenzy wrought,
Pursue and slay, and sack the city old
With fiendish shouts for blood and yellow gold.
Each man that falls the foe decapitates,
And bears the reeking death to Erech's gates.
The gates are hidden 'neath the pile of heads
That climbs above the walls, and outward spreads
A heap of ghastly plunder bathed in blood.
Beside them calm scribes of the victors stood,
And careful note the butcher's name, and check
The list; and for each head a price they make.
Thus pitiless the sword of Elam gleams
And the best blood of Erech flows in streams.
From Erech's walls some fugitives escape,
And others in Euphrates wildly leap,
And hide beneath its rushes on the bank
And many 'neath the yellow waters sank.
The harper of the Queen, an agèd man,
Stands lone upon the bank, while he doth scan
The horizon with anxious, careworn face,
Lest ears profane of Elam's hated race
Should hear his strains of mournful melody:
Now leaning on his harp in memory
Enwrapt, while fitful breezes lift his locks
Of snow, he sadly kneels upon the rocks
And sighing deeply clasps his hands in woe,
While the dread past before his mind doth flow.
A score and eight of years have slowly passed
Since Rim-a-gu, with Elam's host amassed,
Kardunia's ancient capital had stormed.
The glorious walls and turrets are transformed
To a vast heap of ruins, weird, forlorn,
And Elam's spears gleam through the coming morn.
From the sad sight his eyes he turns away,
His soul breathes through his harp while he doth play
With bended head his agèd hands thus woke
The woes of Erech with a measured stroke:
O Erech! dear Erech, my beautiful home,
Accadia's pride, O bright land of the bard,
Come back to my vision, dear Erech, oh, come!
Fair land of my birth, how thy beauty is marred!
The horsemen of Elam, her spearsmen and bows,
Thy treasures have ravished, thy towers thrown down,
And Accad is fallen, trod down by her foes.
Oh, where are thy temples of ancient renown?
Gone are her brave heroes beneath the red tide,
Gone are her white vessels that rode o'er the main,
No more on the river her pennon shall ride,
Gargan-na is fallen, her people are slain.
Wild asses[23] shall gallop across thy grand floors,
And wild bulls shall paw them and hurl the dust high
Upon the wild cattle that flee through her doors,
And doves shall continue her mournful slave's cry.
Oh, where are the gods of our Erech so proud,
As flies they are swarming away from her halls,
The Sedu[24] of Erech are gone as a cloud,
As wild fowl are flying away from her walls.
Three years did she suffer, besieged by her foes,
Her gates were thrown down and defiled by the feet
Who brought to poor Erech her tears
In vain to our Ishtar with prayers we entreat.
To Ishtar bowed down doth our Bel thus reply,
"Come, Ishtar, my queenly one, hide all thy tears,
Our hero, Tar-u-man-i izzu Sar-ri,[25]
In Kipur is fortified with his strong spears.
The hope of Kardunia,[26] land of my delight,
Shall come to thy rescue, upheld by my hands,
Deliverer of peoples, whose heart is aright,
Protector of temples, shall lead his brave bands."
Awake then, brave Accad, to welcome the day!
Behold thy bright banners yet flaming on high,
Triumphant are streaming on land and the sea!
Arise, then, O Accad! behold the Sami![27]
Arranged in their glory the mighty gods come
In purple and gold the grand Tam-u[8] doth shine
Over Erech, mine Erech, my beautiful home,
Above thy dear ashes, behold thy god's sign!
[Footnote 1: "O Moon-god, hear my cry!" ("Siu lici unnini!") the name of the author of the Izdubar epic upon which our poem is based.]
[Footnote 2: "Khar-sak-kur-ra," the Deluge mountain on which the ark of
Khasisadra (the Accadian Noah) rested.]
[Footnote 3: "Khar-sak-kal-ama" is a city mentioned in the Izdubar epic, and was probably situated at the base of Khar-sak-kur-ra, now called Mount Elwend. The same mountain is sometimes called the "Mountain of the World" in the inscriptions, where the gods were supposed to sometimes reside.]
[Footnote 4: "Pit-u-dal-ti," openers of the gates.]
[Footnote 5: "Masari," guards of the great gates of the city, etc.]
[Footnote 6: "Ellat-gula," the queen of Erech, the capital of Babylonia.]
[Footnote 7: "Tur-tan-u" was the army officer or general who in the absence of the sovereign took the supreme command of the army, and held the highest rank next to the queen or king.]
[Footnote 8: "Dannat" (the "Powerful Lady") was a title applied to the Queen, the mother of Izdubar (Sayce's ed. Smith's "Chal. Acc. of Gen.," p. 184). We have here identified her with Ellat-gula, the Queen of Babylon, who preceded Ham-murabi or Nammurabi, whom the inscriptions indicate was an Accadian. The latter we have identified with Nimrod, following the suggestion of Mr. George Smith.]
[Footnote 9: "Khumbaba" was the giant Elamitic king whom Izdubar overthrew. We identify him with the King of the Elamites who, allied with Rimsin or Rimagu, was overthrown by Nammurabi or Izdubar.]
[Footnote 10: "Rim-siu," above referred to, who overthrew Uruk, or Karrak, or Erech. He was King of Larsa, immediately south of Erech.]
[Footnote 11: "Nap-pa-khu," war-trumpet.]
[Footnote 12: "Bar-ru," army officer.]
[Footnote 13: "Samas," the sun-god.]
[Footnote 14: "Subartu" is derived from the Accadian "subar" ("high"), applied by the Accadians to the highlands of Aram or Syria. It is probable that all these countries, viz., Subartu, Goim, Lullubu, Kharsak-kalama, Eridu, and Duran, were at one time inhabited by the Accadians, until driven out by the Semites.]
[Footnote 15: "Sutu" is supposed to refer to the Arabians.]
[Footnote 16: "Kassi," the Kassites or Elamites. The Kassi inhabited the northern part of Elam.]
[Footnote 17: "Goim," or "Gutium," supposed by Sir Henry Rawlinson to be the Goyim of Gen. xiv, ruled by Tidal or Turgal ("the Great Son").]
[Footnote 18: "Lul-lu-bu," a country northward of Mesopotamia and Nizir.]
[Footnote 19: "Kharsak-kala-ma," the city supposed to lie at the base of Kharsak-kurra, or Mount Nizir, or Mount Elwend. The same city was afterward called Echatana.]
[Footnote 20: "Eridu," the land of Ur, or Erech.]
[Footnote 21: "Duran," Babylonia.]
[Footnote 22: "Masari," guards of the palace, etc.]
[Footnote 23: See Sayce's translation in the "Chal. Acc. of Gen.," by
Smith, p. 193.]
[Footnote 24: "Sedu," spirits of prosperity.]
[Footnote 25: "Tar-u-mani izzu Sarri," son of the faith, the fire of kings, or fire-king.]
[Footnote 26: "Kardunia," the ancient name of Babylon.]
[Footnote 27: "Sami," heavens (plural).]
[Footnote 28: "Tamu," dawn or sunrise, day.]
COLUMN III
THE RESCUE OF ERECH BY IZDUBAR
Heabani, weary, eyes his native land,
And on his harp now lays his trembling hand;
The song has ended in a joyous lay,
And yet, alas! his hands but sadly play:
Unused to hope, the strings refuse their aid
To tune in sympathy, and heartless played.
Again the minstrel bows his head in woe,
And the hot tear-drops from his eyelids flow,
And chanting now a mournful melody,
O'er Erech's fall, thus sang an elegy:
[1] "How long, O Ishtar, will thy face be turned,
While Erech desolate doth cry to thee?
Thy towers magnificent, oh, hast thou spurned?
Her blood like water in Ul-bar,[2] oh, see!
The seat of thine own oracle behold!
The fire hath ravaged all thy cities grand,
And like the showers of Heaven them all doth fold.
O Ishtar! broken-hearted do I stand!
Oh, crush our enemies as yonder reed!
For hopeless, lifeless, kneels thy bard to thee,
And, oh! I would exalt thee in my need,
From thy resentment, anger, oh, us free!"
With eyes bedimmed with tears, he careful scans
The plain, "Perhaps the dust of caravans
It is! But no!! I see long lines of spears!
A warrior from the lifting cloud appears,
And chariots arrayed upon the plain!
And is the glorious omen not in vain?
What! no?" He rubs his eyes in wild surprise,
And drinks the vision while he loudly cries:
"Oh, joy! our standards flashing from afar!
He comes! he comes! our hero Izdubar!"
He grasps his harp inspired, again to wake
In song—the cry of battle now doth break.
"Nin-a-rad,[3] servant of our great Nin,[4]
Shall lead our hosts to victory!
God of the chase and war, o'er him, oh, shine!
Tar-u-ma-ni iz-zu sar-ri![5]
"Let Elam fall! the cause of Accad's woes,
Revenge of Erech, be the cry!
This land our father's blessed, our king they chose,
Tar-u-ma-ni iz-zu sar-ri!
Our holy fathers sleep upon this plain,
We conquer, or we here will die;
For victory, then raise the cry, ye men!
Tar-u-ma-ni iz-zu sar-ri!"
The minstrel ceases, lifts his hands on high,
And still we hear his joyful waning cry:
Now echoed by yon hosts along the sky,
"He comes! Tar-u-ma-ni iz-zu sar-ri!
Great Accad's hosts arrayed with spears and shields
Are coming! see them flashing o'er the fields!
And he! bright flashing as the god's attire,
Doth lead in burnished gold, our king of fire.
His armor shines through yonder wood and fen,
That tremble 'neath the tread of armèd men.
See! from his jewelled breastplate, helmet, fly
The rays like Samas from the cloudless sky!
How martially he rides his sable steed,
That proudly treads and lifts his
While eagerly he gallops down the line,
And bears his princely load with porte divine;
And now, along the plains there sounds afar
The piercing bugle-note of Izdubar;
For Erech's walls and turrets are in view,
And high the standards rise of varied hue.
The army halts; the twanging bows are strung;
And from their chariots the chieftains sprung.
The wheeling lines move at each chief's command,
With chariots in front;
On either hand
Extend the lines of spears and cavalry,
A wingèd storm-cloud waiting for its prey:
And see! while Accad's army ready waits,
The enemy are swarming from the gates.
The charge, from either host, the trumpets sound,
And bristling chariots from each army bound:
A cloud of arrows flies from Accad's bows
That hides the sun, and falls among their foes.
Now roars the thunder of great Accad's cars,
Their brazen chariots as blazing stars
Through Nuk-khu's[6] depths with streams of blazing fire,
Thus fall upon the foe with vengeful ire.
The smoking earth shakes underneath their wheels,
And from each cloud their thunder loudly peals.
Thus Accad on their foes have fiercely hurled
Their solid ranks with Nin-rad's flag unfurled,
The charging lines meet with a fearful sound,
As tempests' waves from rocks in rage rebound;
The foe thus meet the men of Izdubar,
While o'er the field fly the fierce gods of war.
Dark Nin-a-zu[7] her torch holds in her hand.
With her fierce screams directs the gory brand;
And Mam-mit[8] urges her with furious hand,
And coiling dragons[9] poison all the land
With their black folds and pestilential breath,
In fierce delight thus ride the gods of death.
The shouts of Accad mingle with the cries
Of wounded men and fiery steeds, which rise
From all the fields with shrieks of carnage, war,
Till victory crowns the host of Izdubar.
The chariots are covered with the slain,
And crushed beneath lie dead and dying men,
And horses in their harness wounded fall,
With dreadful screams, and wildly view the wall
Of dying warriors piling o'er their heads,
And wonder why each man some fury leads;
And others break across the gory plain
In mad career till they the mountain gain;
And snorting on the hills in wild dismay,
One moment glance below, then fly away;
Away from sounds that prove their masters, fiends,
Away to freedom snuffing purer winds,
Within some cool retreat by mountain streams,
Where peacefully for them, the sun-light gleams.
At last the foe is scattered o'er the plain,
And Accad fiercely slays the flying men;
When Izdubar beholds the victory won
By Accad's grand battalions of the sun,
His bugle-call the awful carnage stays,
Then loud the cry of victory they raise.
[Footnote 1: The above elegy is an Assyrian fragment remarkably similar to one of the psalms of the Jewish bible, and I believe it belongs to the Irdubar epic (W.A. I. IV. 19, No. 3; also see "Records of the Past," vol. xi. p. 160).]
[Footnote 2: "Ul-bar," Bel's temple.]
[Footnote 3: "Nin-a-rad," literally "servant of Nin," or "Nin-mar-ad,"
"Lord of the city of Marad."]
[Footnote 4: "Nin," the god of the chase and war, or lord.]
[Footnote 5: "Tar-u-ma-ni izzu sar-ri," "son of the faith, the fire-king."]
[Footnote 6: "Nuk-khu," darkness (god of darkness).]
[Footnote 7: "Nin-a-zu," god of fate and death.]
[Footnote 8: "Mam-mit," or "Mam-mi-tu," goddess of fate.]
[Footnote 9: "Dragons," gods of chaos and death.]
COLUMN IV
CORONATION OF IZDUBAR
A crowd of maidens led a glorious van;
With roses laden the fair heralds ran,
With silver-throated music chant the throng,
And sweetly sang the coronation song:
And now we see the gorgeous cavalcade,
Within the walls in Accad's grand parade
They pass, led by the maidens crowned with flowers,
Who strew the path with fragrance;—to the towers
And walls and pillars of each door bright cling
The garlands. Hear the maidens joyful sing!
"Oh, shout the cry! Accadians, joyful sing
For our Deliverer! Oh, crown him King!
Then strew his path with garlands, tulips, rose,
And wave his banners as he onward goes;
Our mighty Nin-rad comes, oh, raise the cry!
We crown Tar-u-ma-ni iz-zu sar-ri!
Away to Samas' temple grand, away!
For Accad crowns him, crowns him there!
He is our chosen Sar[1] this glorious day,
Oh, send the Khanga[2] through the air!
Then chant the chorus, all ye hosts above!
O daughters, mothers, sing for him we love!
His glory who can sing, who brings us joy?
For hope and gladness all our hearts employ.
He comes, our hope and strength in every war:
We crown him as our king, our Izdubar!
Away to Samas' temple grand, away!
For Accad crowns him, crowns him there!
He is our chosen Sar this glorious day,
Oh, send the Khanga through the air!"
Toward the temple filed the long parade,
The nobles led while Accad's music played;
The harps and timbrels, barsoms, drums and flutes
Unite with trumpets and the silver lutes.
Surrounded by his chieftains rides the Sar
In purple robes upon his brazen car.
Bedecked with garlands, steeds of whitest snow
The chariot draw in state with movement slow,
Each steed led by a kisib, nobleman,
A score of beauteous horses linked in span.
The army follows with their nodding plumes,
And burnished armor, trumpets, rolling drums,
And glistening spears enwreathed with fragrant flowers,
While scarfs are waving from the crowded towers,
And shouts of joy their welcome loud proclaim,
And from each lip resounds their monarch's name.
And now before the holy temple stands
The chariot, in silence cease the bands.
Around an altar stand the waiting priests,
And held by them, the sacrificial beasts.
The hero from his chair descends,
And bowing to the priests, he lowly bends
Before the sacred altar of the Sun,
And prays to Samas, Accad's Holy One.
[3] "O Samas, I invoke thee, throned on high!
Within the cedars' shadow bright thou art,
Thy footing rests upon immensity;
All nations eagerly would seek thy heart.
Their eyes have turned toward thee; O our Friend!
Whose brilliant light illuminates all lands,
Before thy coming all the nations bend,
Oh, gather every people with thy hands!
For thou, O Samas, knowest boundaries
Of every kingdom, falsehood dost destroy,
And every evil thought from sorceries
Of wonders, omens, dreams that do annoy,
And evil apparitions, thou dost turn
To happy issue; malice, dark designs;
And men and countries in thy might o'erturn,
And sorcery that every soul maligns.
Oh, in thy presence refuge let me find!
From those who spells invoke against thy King,
Protect one! and my heart within thine, oh, bind!
[4]Thy breath within mine inmost soul, oh, bring!
And may the gods who me created, take
Thy hands and lead me, make thy will my choice,
[5]Direct my breath, my hands, and of me make
They servant, Lord of light of legions vast,
O Judge, thy glory hath all things surpassed!"
The King then rises, takes the sacred glass,[6]
And holds it in the sun before the mass
Of waiting fuel on the altar piled.
The centring rays—the fuel glowing gild
With a round spot of fire and quickly, spring
Above the altar curling, while they sing!
[7] "Oh, to the desert places may it fly,
This incantation holy!
O spirit of the heavens, us this day
Remember, oh, remember!
O spirit of the earth, to thee we pray,
Remember! Us remember!
"O God of Fire! a lofty prince doth stand,
A warrior, and son of the blue sea,
Before the God of Fire in thine own land,
Before thy holy fires that from us free
Dread Darkness, where dark Nuk-khu reigns.
Our prince, as monarch we proclaim,
His destiny thy power maintains,
Oh, crown his glory with wide fame!
"With bronze and metal thou dost bless
All men, and givest silver, gold.
The goddess with the hornèd face
Did bless us with thee from of old.
From dross thy fires change gold to purity;
Oh, bless our fire-king, round him shine
With Heaven's vast sublimity!
And like the earth with rays divine,
As the bright walls of Heaven's shrine."
[Footnote 1: "Sar," king.]
[Footnote 2: "Khanga," chorus.]
[Footnote 3: One of the Accadian psalms is here quoted from "Chaldean Magic," by Lenormant, pp. 185, 186. See also "Records of the Past," vol. xi. pl. 17, col. 2.]
[Footnote 4: Literally, "Right into my marrow, O Lords of breath."]
[Footnote 5: Literally, "Direct the breath of my mouth!"]
[Footnote 6: Sacred glass, sun-glass used to light the sacred fire.]
[Footnote 7: Incantation to Fire ("Records of the Past," vol. xi. p. 137). The Accadian and Assyrian text is found in "C.I.W.A.," vol. iv. pl. 14, and on tablet K. 49,002, in the British Museum.]
COLUMN V
ISHTAR AND HER MAIDS IN THE FAVORITE HAUNT OF IZDUBAR
The king while hunting where a forest grows,
Around sweet hyacinths and budding rose,
Where a soft zephyr o'er them gently flows
From the dark sik-ka-ti[1] where Kharsak[2] glows;
And Sedu[3] softly dances on the leaves,
And a rich odorous breath from them receives;
Where tulips peep with heliotrope and pink,
With violets upon a gleaming brink
Of silver gliding o'er a water-fall
That sings its purling treasures o'er a wall
Of rugged onyx sparkling to the sea:
A spot where Zir-ri[4] sport oft merrily,
Where Hea's[5] arm outstretched doth form a bay,
Wild, sheltered, where his sea-daughters play;
A jasper rock here peeps above the waves
Of emerald hue; with them its summit laves.
Around, above, this cool enchanting cove
Bend amorous, spicy branches; here the dove
Oft coos its sweetest notes to its own mate,
And fragrance pure, divine, the air doth freight,
To sport with gods no lovelier place is found,
With love alone the mystic woods resound.
Here witching Zi-na-ki[6] oft drag within
The waves unwilling Zi-si;[7] here the din
Of roars of sullen storms is never known
When tempests make the mighty waters groan;
Nor sound of strife is heard, but rippling rills,
Or softest note of love, the breezes fills.
And here the king in blissful dreams oft lies
'Mid pure ambrosial odors, and light flies
The tune in bliss; away from kingly care,
And hollow splendor of the courtly glare;
Away from triumphs, battle-fields afar,
The favorite haunt of huntsman Izdubar.
The Queen of Love the glowing spot surveys,
And sees the monarch where he blissful lays;
And watching till he takes his bow and spear
To chase the wild gazelles now browsing near,
She, ere the king returns, near by arrives
With her two maids; with them for love connives,
Joy and seduction thus voluptuous fly
Her Samkhatu,[8] Kharimtu[9] from the sky,
As gently, lightly as a spirit's wing
Oft carries gods to earth while Sedu sing.
Thus, they, with lightest step, expectant stood
Within this lovely spot beneath the wood.
Their snowy limbs they bare, undraped now stand
Upon the rock at Ishtar's soft command.
Like marble forms endued with life they move,
And thrill the air with welcome notes of love.
The its-tu-ri Same mut-tab-ri[10] sang
Their sweetest notes, and the Khar-san-u[11] rang
With songs of thrushes, turtle-doves and jays,
And linnets, with the nightingale's sweet lays,
Goldfinches, magpies and the wild hoopoes;
With cries of green-plumed parrots and cuckoos,
Pee-wits and sparrows join the piercing cries
Of gorgeous herons, while now upward flies
The eagle screaming, joyful spreads his wings
Above the forest; and the woodchuck rings
A wild tattoo upon the trees around;
And humming-birds whirr o'er the flowering ground
In flocks, and beat the luscious laden air
With emerald and gold, and scarlet, where
These perfect forms with godly grace divine,
In loveliness upon the rock recline.
Sweet joy is slender formed, with bright black eyes
That sparkle oft and dance with joy's surprise;
Seduction, with her rare voluptuous form,
Enchanteth all till wildest passions warm
The blood and fire the eye beneath her charm;
All hearts in heaven and earth she doth disarm.
The Queen with every perfect charm displayed
Delights the eye, and fills the heart, dismayed
With fear, lest the bright phantom may dissolve
To airy nothingness, till fierce resolve
Fills each who her beholds, while love doth dart
From liquid eyes and captivates the heart.
She is the queen who fills the earth with love
And reigns unrivalled in her realms above.
Beware, ye hearts! beware! who feel the snare
Of Ishtar, lest ye tread upon the air;
When ye her rosy chain of fragrance wear,
When blindness strikes the eye, and deaf the ear
Becomes, and heartstrings only lead you then,
Till ye return to common sense again;
Enthralled mayhap and captive led in chains,
Ye then will leisure have to bear your pains;
Or if perchance a joy hath come to thee,
Through all thy joyous life, then happy be!
[Footnote 1: "Sik-ka-ti," narrow mountain gorges.]
[Footnote 2: "Khar-sak," the Deluge mountain, where the ark rested.]
[Footnote 3: "Se-du," a spirit of the earth, and rivers.]
[Footnote 4: "Zir-ri," the spirits of the rivers, water-nymphs.]
[Footnote 5: "Hea," the god of the ocean.]
[Footnote 6: "Zi-na-ki," pronounced "zee-na-kee," spirits of purity.]
[Footnote 7: "Zi-si," corn-gods, or spirits of the corn.]
[Footnote 8: "Sam-kha-tu," one of the maids of Ishtar, "Joy."]
[Footnote 9:
[Footnote 10: "Its-tu-ri Same mut-tab ri," "the wingèd birds of heaven."]
[Footnote 11: "Khar-san-u," forest.]
COLUMN VI
IZDUBAR FALLS IN LOVE WITH ISHTAR, THE QUEEN OF LOVE
The hour has come when Izdubar will seek
The cool enchantment of the cove, and slake
His thirst with its sweet waters bubbling pure,
Where Love has spread for him her sweetest lure,
The maids expectant listening, watch and wait
His coming; oft in ecstacies they prate
O'er his surprise, and softly sport and splash
The limpid waves around, that glowing flash
Like heaps of snowy pearls lung to the light
By Hea's[1] hands, his Zir-ri[2] to delight.
And now upon the rock each maid reclines,
While Ishtar's form beneath them brightly shines;
Beside the fountain stands the lovely god,
The graceful sovereign of Love's sweet abode.
"He comes; the shrubs of yonder jasmine near
Are rustling, oh, he comes! my Izdubar!"
And thus her love she greets: "Why art thou here?
Thou lovely mortal! king art thou, or seer?
We reck not which, and welcome give to thee;
Wouldst thou here sport with us within the sea?"
And then, as if her loveliness forgot,
She quickly grasped her golden locks and wrought
Them round her form of symmetry with grace
That well became a god, while o'er her face
Of sweetest beauty blushes were o'erspread;
"Thou see-est only Nature's robe," she said.
"'Tis all I wish while sporting with my maids,
And all alone no care have we for jades;
And if with thee we can in truth confide,
We here from all the world may cosey hide."
She hurls a glance toward him, smiling naïve,
Then bounding from the rock, peeps from a wave;
The waters fondling her surround, embrace
Her charms; and now emerging with rare grace,
She turning says:
"Make haste, my hearts!
Come forth! attend your queen!" and then she parts
The azure waves, to where, in dumb surprise,
The King enchanted stands, and fondly eyes
The Queen divine, while fascinating thrills
Sweep wildly through his breast; as fragrance fills
The rose-tree groves, or gardens of the gods,
Or breezes odorous from the Blest Abodes.
A longing, rising, fills his inmost soul
For this sweet queen who offers him a goal
His stormy life has never known, since he,
His loved one lost beneath the raging sea;
And all his calm resolves to seek no more
A joy which passed and left his heart forlore,
Are breaking, vanishing beneath her charms,
Dissolving as the mists, when sunlight warms
The earth, then scorching drinks the rising dews;
Till he at last no longer can refuse,
And love directs while he the goddess greets:
"Such wondrous beauty here no mortal meets;
But come, thou Zir-ru,[3] with me sweetly rest;
Primroses, gentians, with their charms invest
My mossy couch, with odorous citron-trees
And feathery palms above; and I will please
Thee with a mortal's love thou hast not known;
In pure love mingling let our spirits run,
For earthly joys are sweeter than above,
That rarest gift, the honeyed kiss of love
On earth, is sweeter bliss than gods enjoy;
Their shadowy forms with love cannot employ
Such pleasure as a mortal's sweet caress.
Come, Zi-ru, and thy spirit I will bless;
The Mandrake[4] ripened golden, glows around;
The fruit of Love is fragrant on the ground."
Amid the Dud'im[5] plants he now reclines,
And to his welcome fate himself resigns;
The lovely queen beside him now doth lay,
And leads his soul along the blissful way
That comes to every heart that longs for love,
When purest joy doth bless us from above;
From her soft liquid eyes the love-light speaks,
And her warm hands she lays in his, and wakes
Beneath her touch a thrill of wild desire,
Until his blood now seems like molten fire.
Her eyes half closed begat a passion wild,
With her warm breast, her loves hath beguiled;
She nearer creeps with hot and balmy breath,
And trembling form aglow, and to him saith:
"My lips are burning for a kiss, my love!"
A prize like this, a heart of stone would move,
And he his arms around her fondly placed
Till she reclined upon his breast, embraced,
Their lips in one long thrilling rapture meet.
But hark! what are these strains above so sweet
That float around, above, their love surround?
An-nu-na-ci[6] from forests, mounts around,
And from the streams and lakes, and ocean, trees,
And all that haunt the godly place, to please
The lovers, softly chant and dance around
To cymbals, lyres until the rocks resound,
Of goddess Ishtar chant, and Izdubar,
The Queen of Love wed to the King of War.
And he alarmed starts up and springs away,
And furious cries, to Ishtar's wild dismay:
"What meanest thou, thou wanton brazen thing?
Wouldst thou on me the direst curses bring?"
And lo! the goddess is transformed! the crown
Of her own silver skies shines like the sun,
And o'er her dazzling robes a halo falls;
Her stately form with glory him appals,
For Heaven's dazzling splendor o'er her flows,
With rays celestial; o'er her brow there glows
A single star.
"Have I embraced a god?"
He horrified now cries; and she doth nod
Assent.
"But, oh! wilt thou thy queen forgive?
I love thee! stay! oh, stay! my heart you grieve!"
He springs beyond the mystic circling ring,
And from their sight thus glides the angry King,
Beneath the wood himself he doth disguise
In tattered garments, on his steed he flies;
And when he comes in sight of Erech's gate,
His beggar's mantle throws aside; in state
Again enrobed, composed his anxious face,
Through Erech's gates he rides with kingly grace;
O'er his adventure thus the King reflects:
"Alas my folly leads, my life directs!
'Tis true, the goddess hath seductive charms,
E'en yet I feel her warm embracing arms.
Enough! her love from me I'll drive away;
Alas! for me, is this unfruitful day!"
[Footnote 1: "Hea," god of the ocean.]
[Footnote 2: "Zir-ri," spirits of the river, the sea-daughters of Hea.]
[Footnote 3: "Zir-ru," water-nymph.]
[Footnote 4: "Mandrake," the "love-plant."]
[Footnote 5: "Dud'im" or "dudaim," [Hebrew: dud'im] or Chald. [Hebrew: ibduchin] and Syr. [Hebrew: ibduch'] the "love-plant" or mandrake; perhaps also originally from "du-du" ("love") or ex. [Hebrew: du] ("particula"), Arab. "possessorem designante," et ex rad. Arab. [Hebrew: ddy] ("ægrotavit"), or [Hebrew: dud] or "amare." See Simoni's Lex. Man. Heb. et Chald. et Lat., pp. 204-206, and Park's Heb. Lex., p. 113, note +.]
[Transcriber's Note: The above "+" is my rendering of a footnote "cross" common in older books.]
[Footnote 6: "An-nu-na-ci," spirits of the earth.]