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 free, And kneels and weeps before the monarch's feet, "O great and mighty Sar I thee entreat, My will is thine, but all my sisters free: Behold my sisters here imploring thee!" The King gazed at the beauteous pleading face, Which roused within his breast the noble race Before her heavenly charms transfixed he stood. Before her heavenly charms transfixed he stood.