The proclamation Izdubar had made To bring to the great plaza every maid, For Beltis' feast and Hergal's now arrives, When maidens are selected as the wives Of noblemen or burghers of the towns And cities of the kingdom; when wealth crowns The nobles richest, ever as of old, With beauty they have purchased with their gold. The festival, the Sabat-tu[6] hath come! The Sabat-tu of Elul! hear the hum Of voices filling Erech's streets! The maids are coming, how each gaily prates! The day and hour has come for them to stand And meet the bidders from all Sumir's land; The day that ends their maidenhood, and brings Them joy or not. Oh, how the poor young things With throbbing hearts approach yon gathering throng To hear their fate pronounced; but is it wrong? The custom old, Accadia thinks is good, They all are young and fresh with maidenhood; The ugly ones as well, shall husbands have, And their young lives from shame thus they will save. No aged maids shall pass from yonder throng With bitterness,--their heart's unuttered song For some dear love to end their joyless woe, And longings unallayed that e'er may flow. But Love! O where art thou? art thou a thing That gold may buy? Doth lucre thy bright wing Unfold to hover over human hearts? Oh, no! Thy presence to our soul imparts A sweeter joy than selfishness can give, Thou givest love that thou mayst love receive; Nor asking aught of wealth, of rank, or fame. True love in palace, hovel, is the same Sweet joy, the holiest of sacred things. For this we worship Ishtar, for she brings Us happiness, when we ourselves forget In the dear arms we love; no coronet Of power, or countless gold, or rank, or fame, Or aught that life can give, or tongue can name, Can reach the heart that loyally doth love, Nor hopes of heaven, nor fears of hell can move. Mayhap, this Sabattu, some lover may All wealth he claims abandon on this day, For the dear heart that seeming pleads to him, While her fond glistening eyes shall on him gleam. A look, a glance; when mingling souls speak love, Will in his breast undying longings move; And let us hope that when the youths have lain[7] Their all before the herald, that no men Who see their sacrifice will rob their hearts Of all that gives them joy or bliss imparts; Or that this day alone will maidens see Who have not loved, and they will happy be With him who purchases her as his wife; Or proud young beauties will enjoy the strife Of bidders to secure their lovely charms, And love may bring their husbands to their arms. The day is sacred, dedicated old To Love and Strength, when loving arms shall fold A vigorous husband to a maiden's breast, Where she may ever stay and safely rest. The day of Ishtar, Queen of Love! the day Of Nergal, the strong god, to whom they pray For strength to bless with vigor Accad's sons. For many anxious years this day atones.