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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 G.o.ds, that stands within 'Mid feathery palms and _gesdin_[1] bowers green, The city rises to a dizzy height, With jewelled turrets flas.h.i.+ng 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 G.o.ds 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 pa.s.sed 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 pa.s.s, With young gazelles, and kiss each other's face.
"We now have reached the stately stairs of gold, The city of the G.o.ds, 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 s.h.i.+ning 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 cl.u.s.ters 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 G.o.ds,--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 pa.s.sed 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 s.h.i.+ning jasper walls.
I stood within the gate, and, oh, my friend, Before that holy sight I p.r.o.ne did bend, And hid my face upon the jacinth stairs.
A s.h.i.+ning G.o.d raised me, and bade my fears Be flown, and I beheld the glorious throne Of crystaled light; with rays by man unknown.
The awful G.o.d 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 G.o.d 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 G.o.d 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 G.o.d 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, p.r.o.ne 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-G.o.d, 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 G.o.ds; Oh, how I loved thee! must thou turn to clods?
Through that dread desert must I ride alone; And leave thee here, Heabani, lying p.r.o.ne?
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-G.o.d, of yon awful deep!
I pray to thee upon my face, oh, hear My prayer! my supplications bring thou near To all the G.o.ds! grant thou to me,--e'en me, A heart of strength and will to wors.h.i.+p 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 G.o.ds been shown?
"Oh, hear me, all ye G.o.ds on high!
To G.o.ds 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 p.r.o.ne!
In dread despair!--If conscious then, O G.o.ds!
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 G.o.ds their fearful curse! Ah, let me think!
The Silver Sky? Alas, its s.h.i.+ning brink He hath not crossed. The wrathful G.o.ds deny Him entrance! Where, oh, where do spirits fly Whom G.o.ds 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 G.o.ds thus send a fate so hard, And cruel? O dear moon-G.o.d, moon-G.o.d Sin!
My seer hath erred. Receive his soul within To joys prepared for G.o.ds and men! Though seer He was, he immortality did fear, As some unknown awakening in s.p.a.ce.
Oh, turn upon him thy bright blessed face!
He was my friend! O moon-G.o.d, hear my prayer!
Imploring thee, doth pray thine Izdubar!"
And lo! a vision breaks before his eyes!
The moon-G.o.d 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 s.h.i.+nes 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 pa.s.sed 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."]