THE KING WORSHIPS AT THE SHRINE OF ISHTAR

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

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

The King astounded, eyed them seated round;
Beneath their gaze his eyes fell to the ground. 
“And hath great Accad lost so many sons,
And left so many maids unmarried ones?”
He eyed the image where the goddess stood
Upon a pedestal of cedar wood
O’erlaid with gold and pearls and uk-ni stones,
And near it stands the altar with its cones
Of gold adorned with gems and solid pearls,—­
And from the golden censer incense curls. 
Beside the altar stands a table grand
Of solid metal carved with skilful hand;
Upon it stands a mass of golden ware,
With wines and fruits which pious hands prepare. 
The walls are glistening with gold and gems,
The priestesses all wear rich diadems. 
The Sar now eyes the maidens, while they gaze;
Thus they expectant wait, while he surveys. 
And see! he takes from them a charming girl
With Ishtar’s eyes and perfect form, the pearl
Of beauty of them all; turns to the shrine,
When in her lap he drops a golden coin,
And says, “The goddess Ishtar, prosper thee!"[2]
She springs, for she from Ishtar’s halls is