“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]