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!