ir,
Goddess of battle and fight,
Without whom the heavenly temple
None would render obedience,
She, the bestower of strength, grants the desire of the faithful,
Prayers she hears, supplication receives, entreaty accepts.
Ishtar, the perfect light, all-powerful,
Who enlightens Heaven and earth,
Her name is proclaimed throughout all the lands,
Esarhaddon, king of lands, fear not.
To her it is good to pray.

XII. ORACLES OF ISHTAR OF ARBELA
(B.C. 680-668)

Esarhaddon, king of lands, fear not.
The lord, the spirit who speaks to thee
I speak to him, I have not kept it back.
Thine enemies, like the floods of Sivan
Before thee flee perpetually.
I the great goddess, Ishtar of Arbela
Have put thine enemies to flight.
Where are the words I spake to thee?
Thou hast not trusted them.
I, Ishtar of Arbela, thy foes
Into thy hands I give
In the van and by thy side I go, fear not
In the midst of thy princes thou art.
In the midst of my host I advance and rest.

O Esarhaddon, fear not.
Sixty great gods are with me to guard thee,
The Moon-god on thy right, the Sun-god on thy left,
Around thee stand the sixty great gods,
And make the centre firm.
Trust not to man, look thou to me
Honor me and fear not.
To Esarhaddon, my king,
Long days and length of years I give.
Thy throne beneath the heavens I have established;
In a golden dwelling thee I will guard in heaven
Guard like the diadem of my head.
The former word which I spake thou didst not trust,
But trust thou now this later word and glorify me,
When the day dawns bright complete thy sacrifice.
Pure food thou shalt eat, pure waters drink,
In thy palace thou shalt be pure.
Thy son, thy son's son the kingdom
By the blessing of Nergal shall rule.

XIII. AN ERECHITE'S LAMENT

How long, O my Lady, shall the strong enemy hold thy sanctuary?
There is want in Erech, thy principal city;
Blood is flowing like water in Eulbar, the house of thy oracle;
He has kindled and poured out fire like hailstones on all thy
lands.
My Lady, sorely am I fettered by misfortune;
My Lady, thou hast surrounded me, and brought me to grief.
The mighty enemy has smitten me down like a single reed.
Not wise