 | The Path of Dreams |  |
1
The Path of Dreams
Sweet-scented winds move inward from the shore,
Blythe is the air of June with silken gleams,
My roving fancy treads at will once more,
The golden path of dreams.
Blythe is the air of June with silken gleams,
My roving fancy treads at will once more,
The golden path of dreams.
Along the sloping uplands yellow wheat
Is bending to the honied breath of June,
While all the lowlands slumber at my feet
This glorious afternoon.
Is bending to the honied breath of June,
While all the lowlands slumber at my feet
This glorious afternoon.
To balmy gusts from blue-girt breezy hills
The clover blossoms nod with graceful art,
And all the mystery of living thrills
The ever pulsing heart.
The clover blossoms nod with graceful art,
And all the mystery of living thrills
The ever pulsing heart.
A boon to lovers still, the sweet wild rose
Adds perfume to the languor in the air,
And whispering Zephyr scatters as she goes
Sweet atters everywhere.
Adds perfume to the languor in the air,
And whispering Zephyr scatters as she goes
Sweet atters everywhere.
The wild birds restlessly from tree to tree,
Flit ceaselessly beneath the sunlit skies,
And give a sumptuous afternoon to me,
In song and gladsome cries.
Flit ceaselessly beneath the sunlit skies,
And give a sumptuous afternoon to me,
In song and gladsome cries.
2
Blue gauze the empty distances enfold;
The stream-fed glens lie bare in loveliness,
And waves of light along the paths of gold
The glens and hills caress.
The stream-fed glens lie bare in loveliness,
And waves of light along the paths of gold
The glens and hills caress.
In garish light the rustling, shimmering corn,
The trembling leaves, the passing winds caress,
And in the heart a subtle throb is born
Of mighty tenderness.
The trembling leaves, the passing winds caress,
And in the heart a subtle throb is born
Of mighty tenderness.
Vague yearnings, tenderness that prompt to tears
And fill the heart with mingled pain and bliss,
Come down to men through many thousand years,
On afternoons like this.
And fill the heart with mingled pain and bliss,
Come down to men through many thousand years,
On afternoons like this.
What is there in the vistas, song, and flower,
That prompt alike to happiness and tears,
Unites life's scattered visions in the hour
Of past and present years?
That prompt alike to happiness and tears,
Unites life's scattered visions in the hour
Of past and present years?
Is it the throb of life on soft hill slopes,
A thousand passions burned to fever heat
Spread out in shimmering glows that run to hopes,
For some fulfillment sweet?
A thousand passions burned to fever heat
Spread out in shimmering glows that run to hopes,
For some fulfillment sweet?
Some half fulfillment yet of vanished gleams,
Of vanished promises when love's wild glow
Made fervid youth a tenement of dreams
Back in the long ago.
Of vanished promises when love's wild glow
Made fervid youth a tenement of dreams
Back in the long ago.
3
DAYBREAK
Awake! arise! Oh, men of my race,
I see our morning star,
And feel the dawn-breeze on my face
Creep inward, from afar.
I see our morning star,
And feel the dawn-breeze on my face
Creep inward, from afar.
I feel the dawn, with soft-like tread,
Steal through our lingering night,
Aglow with flame our sky to spread
In floods of morning light.
Steal through our lingering night,
Aglow with flame our sky to spread
In floods of morning light.
Arise! my men, be wide awake
To hear the bugle call,
For Negroes everywhere to break
The bands that bind us all.
To hear the bugle call,
For Negroes everywhere to break
The bands that bind us all.
Great Lincoln, now with glory graced,
All God-like with the pen,
Our chattel fetters broke, and placed
Us in the ranks of men.
All God-like with the pen,
Our chattel fetters broke, and placed
Us in the ranks of men.
But even he could not awake
The dead, nor make alive,
Nor change stern nature's laws which make
The fittest to survive.
The dead, nor make alive,
Nor change stern nature's laws which make
The fittest to survive.
Let every man his soul inure,
In noblest sacrifice,
And with a heart of oak endure,
Ignoble, arrant prejudice.
In noblest sacrifice,
And with a heart of oak endure,
Ignoble, arrant prejudice.
4
Endurance, love, will yet prevail
Against all laws of hate;
Such armaments can never fail
Our race its best estate.
Against all laws of hate;
Such armaments can never fail
Our race its best estate.
Let none make common cause with sin,
Be that in honor bound,
For they who fight with God must win
On every battle ground.
Be that in honor bound,
For they who fight with God must win
On every battle ground.
Though wrongs there are, and wrongs have been,
And wrongs we still must face,
We have more friends than foes within
The Anglo-Saxon race.
And wrongs we still must face,
We have more friends than foes within
The Anglo-Saxon race.
In spite of all the babel cries,
Of those who rage and shout,
God's silent forces daily rise
To bring His will about.
Of those who rage and shout,
God's silent forces daily rise
To bring His will about.
Our portion is, and yet will be,
To drink a bitter cup
In many things, yet all must see
The race is moving up.
To drink a bitter cup
In many things, yet all must see
The race is moving up.
Oh! men of my race, awake! arise!
Our morning's in the air,
There's scarlet all along the skies,
Our day breaks everywhere.
Our morning's in the air,
There's scarlet all along the skies,
Our day breaks everywhere.
5
TO HOLLYHOCKS
Gay hollyhocks with flaming bells
And waving plumes, as gently swells
The breeze upon the Summer air;
You bind me still with magic spells
When to the wind, in grave farewells,
You bow in all your graces fair.
And waving plumes, as gently swells
The breeze upon the Summer air;
You bind me still with magic spells
When to the wind, in grave farewells,
You bow in all your graces fair.
You bring me back the childhood view,
Where arching skies and deepest blue
Stretch on in endless lengths above;
To see you so awakes anew
Long past emotions, from which grew
My wild and first heart-throbs of love.
Where arching skies and deepest blue
Stretch on in endless lengths above;
To see you so awakes anew
Long past emotions, from which grew
My wild and first heart-throbs of love.
There is in all your brilliant dyes,
Your gorgeousness and azure skies,
A joy like soothing summer rain;
Yet in the scene there vaguely lies
A something half akin to sighs,
Along the borderland of pain.
Your gorgeousness and azure skies,
A joy like soothing summer rain;
Yet in the scene there vaguely lies
A something half akin to sighs,
Along the borderland of pain.
6
SPRING DAWN
There comes to my heart from regions remote
A wild desire for the hedge and the brush,
Whenever I hear the first wild note
Of the meadow lark and the hermit thrush.
A wild desire for the hedge and the brush,
Whenever I hear the first wild note
Of the meadow lark and the hermit thrush.
The broken and upturned earth to the air,
By a million thrusting blades of Spring,
Sends out from the sod and everywhere
Its pungent aromas over everything.
By a million thrusting blades of Spring,
Sends out from the sod and everywhere
Its pungent aromas over everything.
Then it's Oh, for the hills, the dawn, and the dew,
The breath of the fields and the silent lake,
And watching the wings of light burst through
The scarlet blush of the new daybreak.
The breath of the fields and the silent lake,
And watching the wings of light burst through
The scarlet blush of the new daybreak.
It is then, when the earth still nestles in sleep,
And the robes of light are scarce unfurled,
You can almost feel, in its mighty sweep,
The onward rush and roll of the world.
And the robes of light are scarce unfurled,
You can almost feel, in its mighty sweep,
The onward rush and roll of the world.
7
THE EPHEMERA
Creatures of gauze and velvet wings,
With life for one brief day,
Dancing and flitting where the breezes fling
The sweets of blooming May;
Skimming the stream where the wild thyme grows,
You dart with keen delight,
Only to die when the sweet wild rose
Gives perfume to the night.
With life for one brief day,
Dancing and flitting where the breezes fling
The sweets of blooming May;
Skimming the stream where the wild thyme grows,
You dart with keen delight,
Only to die when the sweet wild rose
Gives perfume to the night.
Weary at last, when the day is done,
Of the breeze and clover's breath,
Folding your delicate wings with the sun,
You gently drop to death;
Glimmering wings and a few short hours
Were yours in sweet delight,
Living for a day in the world of flowers,
And then—everlasting night.
Of the breeze and clover's breath,
Folding your delicate wings with the sun,
You gently drop to death;
Glimmering wings and a few short hours
Were yours in sweet delight,
Living for a day in the world of flowers,
And then—everlasting night.
Creatures of gauze and velvet wings,
With a day of gleams and flowers,
Who knows—in the light of eternal things—
Your life is less than ours?
Weary at last, it is ours, like you,
When our brief day is done,
Folding our hands, to say adieu,
And pass with the setting sun.
With a day of gleams and flowers,
Who knows—in the light of eternal things—
Your life is less than ours?
Weary at last, it is ours, like you,
When our brief day is done,
Folding our hands, to say adieu,
And pass with the setting sun.
8
THE HILLS OF SEWANEE
Sewanee Hills of dear delight,
Prompting my dreams that used to be,
I know you are waiting me still tonight
By the Unika Range of Tennessee.
Prompting my dreams that used to be,
I know you are waiting me still tonight
By the Unika Range of Tennessee.
The blinking stars in endless space,
The broad moonlight and silvery gleams,
Tonight caress your wind-swept face,
And fold you in a thousand dreams.
The broad moonlight and silvery gleams,
Tonight caress your wind-swept face,
And fold you in a thousand dreams.
Your far outlines, less seen than felt,
Which wind with hill propensities,
In moonlight dreams I see you melt
Away in vague immensities.
Which wind with hill propensities,
In moonlight dreams I see you melt
Away in vague immensities.
And, far away, I still can feel
Your mystery that ever speaks
Of vanished things, as shadows steal
Across your breast and rugged peaks.
Your mystery that ever speaks
Of vanished things, as shadows steal
Across your breast and rugged peaks.
O, dear blue hills, that lie apart,
And wait so patiently down there,
Your peace takes hold upon my heart
And makes its burden less to bear.
And wait so patiently down there,
Your peace takes hold upon my heart
And makes its burden less to bear.
9
HYDROMEL AND RUE
Lord, let me live to serve and make a loan
Of life and soul in love to my heart's own.
And what if they should never care or know
How dark sometimes and weary are the ways,
How piercing cold and pitiless the snow,
How desolate and lonely are the days
Which life for me holds sometimes in reserve?
And what if those I love esteem above
Me, others all untried and far less true,
And lightly barter off my wealth of love
For careless, strange, and passing comrads new?
Oh Lord, those, whom I love, I still would serve.
Of life and soul in love to my heart's own.
And what if they should never care or know
How dark sometimes and weary are the ways,
How piercing cold and pitiless the snow,
How desolate and lonely are the days
Which life for me holds sometimes in reserve?
And what if those I love esteem above
Me, others all untried and far less true,
And lightly barter off my wealth of love
For careless, strange, and passing comrads new?
Oh Lord, those, whom I love, I still would serve.
To be permitted, once in this short life,
To hold a little child close to my heart
In fatherhood, as mine, is worth all strife
Which circumstance and time to me impart.
To know the bliss of chaste and holy love,
To have one friend to even half divine
My hungry heart, is heaven from above
Come to this ever-longing soul of mine.
To hold a little child close to my heart
In fatherhood, as mine, is worth all strife
Which circumstance and time to me impart.
To know the bliss of chaste and holy love,
To have one friend to even half divine
My hungry heart, is heaven from above
Come to this ever-longing soul of mine.
And so, dear Lord, I thank Thee for the cup
Of hydromel Thou givest me to sup,
Though rue and hyssop pass my lips and fill
My life with earthly sorrow, grief, and pain,
In faith my soul will rise to thank Thee still
For garish day, for guerdon and its gain.
And though through time insentient clay, the sward,
My erstwhile form may hold; for joy, for life,
For everlasting love, sunshine and rain,
My ardent heart above all earthly strife,
Unbound in space, soars up through joy and pain
Triumphantly, in thanks to Thee, dear Lord.
Of hydromel Thou givest me to sup,
Though rue and hyssop pass my lips and fill
My life with earthly sorrow, grief, and pain,
In faith my soul will rise to thank Thee still
For garish day, for guerdon and its gain.
10
My erstwhile form may hold; for joy, for life,
For everlasting love, sunshine and rain,
My ardent heart above all earthly strife,
Unbound in space, soars up through joy and pain
Triumphantly, in thanks to Thee, dear Lord.
12
THE BRIDE OF NITTA YUMA.
Softly the cool breath of the early morning,
Swamp-scented air, fragrant with deep lagoons
And water lilies, stole on through the fields
Of cotton, whispering a sighing song.
'Twas Sunday morning then, and everywhere
The May dew rolled away in diadems.
Another day was born with floods of light;
The grass with newer green all wet with dew
Gave welcoming. And rose hues spent with yesterday
Found blushes still, and sent out night-born sweets
To mingle with a thousand other spicy
Airs, and perfumes of the jessamine,
And wild aromas of the Summer air.
And murmured low the sycamore overhead
With whisperings of passing Summer winds.
The dapple sunshine gleamed and kissed their leaves,
And golden gleams were on the fields. Rich were
The blackbird's notes, and joyous sounds from all
The feathered tribes. In lazy lengths the bayou went
With stretches on, and murmuring low songs
Like those of love. There floated far and wide
The queenly water lilies—white, perfuming
All the Sunday air.
Swamp-scented air, fragrant with deep lagoons
And water lilies, stole on through the fields
Of cotton, whispering a sighing song.
'Twas Sunday morning then, and everywhere
The May dew rolled away in diadems.
Another day was born with floods of light;
The grass with newer green all wet with dew
Gave welcoming. And rose hues spent with yesterday
Found blushes still, and sent out night-born sweets
To mingle with a thousand other spicy
Airs, and perfumes of the jessamine,
And wild aromas of the Summer air.
And murmured low the sycamore overhead
With whisperings of passing Summer winds.
The dapple sunshine gleamed and kissed their leaves,
And golden gleams were on the fields. Rich were
The blackbird's notes, and joyous sounds from all
The feathered tribes. In lazy lengths the bayou went
With stretches on, and murmuring low songs
Like those of love. There floated far and wide
The queenly water lilies—white, perfuming
All the Sunday air.
And, like a dove
Of peace, fair Nitta Yuma sat amid
Her spreading figs and rich magnolia blooms,
In rest; for there was come the hallowed day,
The Sabbath of the Lord. The church bell pealed
To far plantations for her worshippers.
They came in straggling bands through cotton fields
And shady lanes. Upon their faces, young
And old, was seen a keen expectancy,
And eagerness. It was the wedding day
Of sweet Alicia Bell, the fairest maid,
And most beloved of all the country side.
And when the preacher called the happy pair
To stand and take their vows, no costly veil
Resplendent in transparency enwrapped
The dusky bride, nor great Cathedral gleamed
In rich mosaics, nor stately pillars carved,
To mark the elegance and luxury
Where come the great, the lordly, and the rich,
To take their marriage vows. But love was there
And hope, and youth, to guide and lead them forth
To their new world. And to his humble home,
With whitewashed walls, the bridegroom led his bride.
The wedding feast of simple fare was theirs
Alone. Through all the golden afternoon
They took their bridal tour, still hand in hand,
Love ever leading on, through cotton fields,
Along the bayou's side, until their feet
Led to the forest old, where man first loved,
First wooed, first won a bride and made a home.
Gently the spirit of the ancient forest
Wove her magic spell around them, till,
As one, they had no further need of speech.
They were no longer twain, and on, as one,
Slowly they walked through the fragrant and green woods—
Woods sun-stained, and peaceful, where all nature
Fused her mellow beauty into one
Harmonious whole. Softened and blended colors
Gleamed in vistas and in open glades;
Delicious murmurs, inarticulate,
Soothing all the senses, crept in quiet,
Even undertones all through the forest,
Whispering primeval memories,
Primeval mysteries of ages past.
Once more the ancient forest, dim and silent,
Throbbed with energy and unseen life,
Where sunshine fell among the moist ferns,
Gleamed on silent pools and altars lost.
Again the musty fragrance of the forest mould
Greeted the nostrils of fauns and dryads
Unseen, and all the fairy forest lived
Once more, commingling with their murmurings
The past and present. Here primordial love
Walked hand in hand through Paradise anew.
Of peace, fair Nitta Yuma sat amid
Her spreading figs and rich magnolia blooms,
In rest; for there was come the hallowed day,
13
To far plantations for her worshippers.
They came in straggling bands through cotton fields
And shady lanes. Upon their faces, young
And old, was seen a keen expectancy,
And eagerness. It was the wedding day
Of sweet Alicia Bell, the fairest maid,
And most beloved of all the country side.
And when the preacher called the happy pair
To stand and take their vows, no costly veil
Resplendent in transparency enwrapped
The dusky bride, nor great Cathedral gleamed
In rich mosaics, nor stately pillars carved,
To mark the elegance and luxury
Where come the great, the lordly, and the rich,
To take their marriage vows. But love was there
And hope, and youth, to guide and lead them forth
To their new world. And to his humble home,
With whitewashed walls, the bridegroom led his bride.
The wedding feast of simple fare was theirs
Alone. Through all the golden afternoon
They took their bridal tour, still hand in hand,
Love ever leading on, through cotton fields,
Along the bayou's side, until their feet
Led to the forest old, where man first loved,
First wooed, first won a bride and made a home.
Gently the spirit of the ancient forest
Wove her magic spell around them, till,
As one, they had no further need of speech.
They were no longer twain, and on, as one,
14
Woods sun-stained, and peaceful, where all nature
Fused her mellow beauty into one
Harmonious whole. Softened and blended colors
Gleamed in vistas and in open glades;
Delicious murmurs, inarticulate,
Soothing all the senses, crept in quiet,
Even undertones all through the forest,
Whispering primeval memories,
Primeval mysteries of ages past.
Once more the ancient forest, dim and silent,
Throbbed with energy and unseen life,
Where sunshine fell among the moist ferns,
Gleamed on silent pools and altars lost.
Again the musty fragrance of the forest mould
Greeted the nostrils of fauns and dryads
Unseen, and all the fairy forest lived
Once more, commingling with their murmurings
The past and present. Here primordial love
Walked hand in hand through Paradise anew.
21
TO THEODORE
Such are the little memories of you;
They come and go, return and lie apart
From all main things of life; yet more than they,
With noiseless feet, they come and grip the heart.
Gay laughter leading quick and stormy tears,
Then smiles again and pulse of flying feet,
In breathless chase of fleeting gossamers,
Are memories so dear, so bitter-sweet.
They come and go, return and lie apart
From all main things of life; yet more than they,
With noiseless feet, they come and grip the heart.
Gay laughter leading quick and stormy tears,
Then smiles again and pulse of flying feet,
In breathless chase of fleeting gossamers,
Are memories so dear, so bitter-sweet.
No more are echoes of your flying feet.
Hard by, where Pike's Peak rears its head in state,
The erstwhile rushing feet, with halting steps,
For health's return in Denver watch and wait.
But love and memories of noiseless tread,
Where angels hovered once, all shining fair,
To tuck you in your little trundle bed,
Kneel nightly now in agony of prayer.
Hard by, where Pike's Peak rears its head in state,
The erstwhile rushing feet, with halting steps,
For health's return in Denver watch and wait.
But love and memories of noiseless tread,
Where angels hovered once, all shining fair,
To tuck you in your little trundle bed,
Kneel nightly now in agony of prayer.
Feb. 22, 1916.
32
A NEW YEAR'S GREETING TO A COLLEGE SENIOR
Soft winds and a moving tide
May bear you on, I pray,
With the love of God to guide
Through the year to your B. A.
May bear you on, I pray,
With the love of God to guide
Through the year to your B. A.
On the shores of heavenly grace,
Or the crest of the ocean's swell,
May the smile of the Father's face
Be the sign that all is well.
Or the crest of the ocean's swell,
May the smile of the Father's face
Be the sign that all is well.
In storms, whenever they rise,
Cling close to the pilot of prayer,
Keep faith under blackest of skies
That the love of God is there.
Cling close to the pilot of prayer,
Keep faith under blackest of skies
That the love of God is there.
59
THE LEGEND OF TANNHAUSER AND ELIZABETH.
The legend of Tannhauser and Elizabeth lends itself readily to a story more human than any other of the Wagner-opera legends. The restlessness of Tannhauser which leads him into such ultimate misfortune, and Elizabeth's undying love and devotion to him, are exhibitions of pathos and tragedy instinct with human life. The dethronement of Venus by the acceptance of Christianity throughout the world, by which she was robbed of her divinity, and relegated to the realms of the lower world to become a sorceress, is not less sorrowful than that of the sorrowful Elizabeth. Venus, the goddess of love and beauty, was, according to the more ancient Greek conception, a daughter of Jupiter and Dione; but Hesiod says that she arose from the sea at the time of the wounding of Uranus and was therefore called by the Greeks, Aphrodite, the foam-born. Wafted by the west wind she was borne to the island of Cytherea, and afterward, like a dream, she passed to Cypress, where the grace of her beauty conquered every heart. She at once became the goddess of love and beauty, the goddess of gardens and flowers, of the rose, the myrtle and the linden. The heaths and slumberous vales, pleasant with Spring and the vernal breezes, were her's. She was the mistress of feminine charm and beauty, and ruled the hearts of men. Driven from her ancient kingdom, from the sunshine and the flowers of the upper world, it is no wonder that her heart grew hard, that we find her the wicked enchantress and sorceress that she is in the Venusburg, situated in the German valley of Thuringia.
60
The version of the legend of Tannhauser here given at the end is a liberty taken, but it seemed to me inconsistent after his chastening to have him consider a return to the Venusburg.
G. M. McClellan.
61
I THE VENUSBURG
In Germany the fabled Venusburg
A broad and fertile valley overlooked,
In fair Thuringia. The winds blew free
Along the mountain slopes, where shepherds watched
Their sheep, and played upon their pipes in sweet
Contentment all the day, beneath the blue
And arching sky. And in the valley rang
Often the cheery cry of noble knights
And jovial hunting parties on their way
To visit Wartburg castle, in which dwelt
The Landgrave, Herman, and his men-at-arms,
And his brave knights of fair Thuringia.
And with him dwelt his niece, Elizabeth,
The princess of the realm. The minstrel knights
And nobles, skilled in voice and on the harp,
Were wont to gather in the Landgrave's hall
And there contest in song. In this fine art
The sweetest singer of Thuringia
Was young Tannhauser, who, by his fair face
And wondrous melodies in song, had won
The heart of proud Elizabeth. And yet
This noble knight was dreamy in his mood
And restless in his life, dissatisfied,
And longed for change and new experiences.
And in this dreamy mood, with harp in hand,
He passed, one day, the grotto of the Venusburg.
The great enchantress of this fateful place
Put forth her magic spells and drew him on.
And when Tannhauser raised his eyes he saw
A country beautiful and strangely new.
As through a doorway seen, there flitted through
The gleaming, ever-changing, rose-hued mist
A countless throng of figures beautiful.
And heavy-headed flowers sent to him
Their all-compelling perfume through the air.
And far away he saw the misty lakes
Of magic blue. The sound of music came to him,
So strangely sweet it almost gave him pain
To hear. And in the midst of all there stood
The great enchantress, smiling, beckoning him
To come. So great her spell, he moved as in a dream,
Into the grotto passed, and fancied that
He heard a heavy door behind him clang.
A broad and fertile valley overlooked,
In fair Thuringia. The winds blew free
Along the mountain slopes, where shepherds watched
Their sheep, and played upon their pipes in sweet
Contentment all the day, beneath the blue
And arching sky. And in the valley rang
Often the cheery cry of noble knights
And jovial hunting parties on their way
To visit Wartburg castle, in which dwelt
The Landgrave, Herman, and his men-at-arms,
And his brave knights of fair Thuringia.
And with him dwelt his niece, Elizabeth,
The princess of the realm. The minstrel knights
And nobles, skilled in voice and on the harp,
Were wont to gather in the Landgrave's hall
And there contest in song. In this fine art
The sweetest singer of Thuringia
Was young Tannhauser, who, by his fair face
And wondrous melodies in song, had won
The heart of proud Elizabeth. And yet
This noble knight was dreamy in his mood
And restless in his life, dissatisfied,
And longed for change and new experiences.
62
He passed, one day, the grotto of the Venusburg.
The great enchantress of this fateful place
Put forth her magic spells and drew him on.
And when Tannhauser raised his eyes he saw
A country beautiful and strangely new.
As through a doorway seen, there flitted through
The gleaming, ever-changing, rose-hued mist
A countless throng of figures beautiful.
And heavy-headed flowers sent to him
Their all-compelling perfume through the air.
And far away he saw the misty lakes
Of magic blue. The sound of music came to him,
So strangely sweet it almost gave him pain
To hear. And in the midst of all there stood
The great enchantress, smiling, beckoning him
To come. So great her spell, he moved as in a dream,
Into the grotto passed, and fancied that
He heard a heavy door behind him clang.
For one long year, with ever changing scenes,
Tannhauser stayed within the Venusburg
And thought that he was happy there. The change
In shifting scenes, the wild bacchantes, and
The nymphs in mimic war, in graceful dance,
Afforded for his ever restless soul
The wild excitement which he craved. And for
His softer moods the chording voices of
The sirens satisfied. He breathed the scent
Of flowers wondrous sweet, and watched at times
Dissolving mist-wreaths as they faded out
Their rosy hues. With Venus long he sat
At other times, and more and more she wove
Her spells which bound him fast to her. She taught
To him her songs of love, which he before
Had never heard, and dazzled by her charms
He worshipped her as did the world of old
When she was grand and true and gave
The gift of noble love to all humanity.
Tannhauser, now enthralled by magic spells,
Had long forgotten all his former life—
His friends, his love for fair Elizabeth,
His love for God, for Christ and righteousness,
And all the good and true which come to man
By sacrifice and overcoming sin
Were banished from his mind, so lost was he
To all the life within the Venusburg.
Tannhauser stayed within the Venusburg
And thought that he was happy there. The change
In shifting scenes, the wild bacchantes, and
The nymphs in mimic war, in graceful dance,
Afforded for his ever restless soul
The wild excitement which he craved. And for
His softer moods the chording voices of
The sirens satisfied. He breathed the scent
Of flowers wondrous sweet, and watched at times
63
Their rosy hues. With Venus long he sat
At other times, and more and more she wove
Her spells which bound him fast to her. She taught
To him her songs of love, which he before
Had never heard, and dazzled by her charms
He worshipped her as did the world of old
When she was grand and true and gave
The gift of noble love to all humanity.
Tannhauser, now enthralled by magic spells,
Had long forgotten all his former life—
His friends, his love for fair Elizabeth,
His love for God, for Christ and righteousness,
And all the good and true which come to man
By sacrifice and overcoming sin
Were banished from his mind, so lost was he
To all the life within the Venusburg.
And yet, the restless nature of his soul
That led him into sin was destined to
Arouse him to his lost estate. One day
Tannhauser felt himself awake once more.
He fancied that he heard the clanging peals
Of church bells far away, and through his mind
There struggled back the long forgotten life;
The sun, the friendly glimmer of the stars,
The song of nightingales, the morning light,
The freshness of the earth, the skies above,
In memory came rushing through his mind.
In wild appeal to Venus now he cried:
“Are these things lost to me?” And, rising from
Her couch, with quick though mild rebuke she bade
Him call to mind for her a scene less sad,
For she remembered well the world from which
She was dethroned and basely relegated to
This under-realm. Tannhauser, now aroused,
Felt all his restlessness, and would not be
Denied. In vain she wove about him now
Her magic spells. Tannhauser pleaded for
Releasement from her power, to live again
His former life, to know the natural joys,
The sorrows and the common things of earth.
In wrath she charged him with ingratitude
To her for all the lavished joys which she
Had given him. But when she saw in vain
Her wrath affected him, in softer tones
She promised him more perfect joys, and things
More beautiful. And while she spoke there came
From over all the dim blue lakes the soft
Caressing voices of the sirens in
Their wondrous harmonies. “My knight,” she cried,
“Why will you fly?” With stormy passion moved,
Tannhauser seized his harp and smote the strings,
And sang in mighty voice. He pledged to sing
When in the upper world, of Venus and
Her praise alone, but to that upper world
He now must go. The great enchantress saw
Her power on him now was gone, and bade him go.
Then in a moment flashed away from him
The Venusburg and all its wondrous spells;
And, stretched full length upon the mountain side,
Tannhauser found himself too weak to rise
Up from the grassy slope at first. Confused
In mind, up to the wide blue sky he gazed,
While slowly came to him the memory
Of all his former life, the bitter truth
Of sin in going to the Venusburg.
And from the pasture lands below he heard
The sheep bells, where the peaceful shepherd lad
Lay playing on his pipes, and pausing now and then
To sing a song to Holda, goddess of
The Spring. Across the quiet valley came
The sounds of hunting horns, the baying of
The hunting pack with full excitement for
The chase, and stirred the lonely knight upon
The mountain side to full activity.
And soon the Landgrave and five minstrel knights
Drew near and recognized Tannhauser, and
With words of welcome and much kindness asked
Where he had been. “I wandered in strange lands,”
Tannhauser said. “I pray you question not,
But let me pass.” The Landgrave saw his mood
And courteously forbore to further press
And question him, but pointed out how sad
Had been the princess, fair Elizabeth,
In his long absence from the hall, and asked
That he should join the coming revels of
The minstrelsy of song in Wartburg Hall.
With gladness in his heart he promised to
Attend. And now the heavens seemed to smile
A pardon down on him, and sweet the wind
Blew softly on his face. “Elizabeth,” he said.
The murmur of her name a sense of peace
And freedom brought to him. And now once more
He humbly prayed to God that he might be
Forgiven for his sin, and find a peace
Of heart, and full acceptance in His sight.
That led him into sin was destined to
Arouse him to his lost estate. One day
Tannhauser felt himself awake once more.
He fancied that he heard the clanging peals
Of church bells far away, and through his mind
There struggled back the long forgotten life;
The sun, the friendly glimmer of the stars,
The song of nightingales, the morning light,
The freshness of the earth, the skies above,
In memory came rushing through his mind.
In wild appeal to Venus now he cried:
64
Her couch, with quick though mild rebuke she bade
Him call to mind for her a scene less sad,
For she remembered well the world from which
She was dethroned and basely relegated to
This under-realm. Tannhauser, now aroused,
Felt all his restlessness, and would not be
Denied. In vain she wove about him now
Her magic spells. Tannhauser pleaded for
Releasement from her power, to live again
His former life, to know the natural joys,
The sorrows and the common things of earth.
In wrath she charged him with ingratitude
To her for all the lavished joys which she
Had given him. But when she saw in vain
Her wrath affected him, in softer tones
She promised him more perfect joys, and things
More beautiful. And while she spoke there came
From over all the dim blue lakes the soft
Caressing voices of the sirens in
Their wondrous harmonies. “My knight,” she cried,
“Why will you fly?” With stormy passion moved,
Tannhauser seized his harp and smote the strings,
And sang in mighty voice. He pledged to sing
When in the upper world, of Venus and
Her praise alone, but to that upper world
He now must go. The great enchantress saw
Her power on him now was gone, and bade him go.
Then in a moment flashed away from him
The Venusburg and all its wondrous spells;
65
Tannhauser found himself too weak to rise
Up from the grassy slope at first. Confused
In mind, up to the wide blue sky he gazed,
While slowly came to him the memory
Of all his former life, the bitter truth
Of sin in going to the Venusburg.
And from the pasture lands below he heard
The sheep bells, where the peaceful shepherd lad
Lay playing on his pipes, and pausing now and then
To sing a song to Holda, goddess of
The Spring. Across the quiet valley came
The sounds of hunting horns, the baying of
The hunting pack with full excitement for
The chase, and stirred the lonely knight upon
The mountain side to full activity.
And soon the Landgrave and five minstrel knights
Drew near and recognized Tannhauser, and
With words of welcome and much kindness asked
Where he had been. “I wandered in strange lands,”
Tannhauser said. “I pray you question not,
But let me pass.” The Landgrave saw his mood
And courteously forbore to further press
And question him, but pointed out how sad
Had been the princess, fair Elizabeth,
In his long absence from the hall, and asked
That he should join the coming revels of
The minstrelsy of song in Wartburg Hall.
With gladness in his heart he promised to
Attend. And now the heavens seemed to smile
66
Blew softly on his face. “Elizabeth,” he said.
The murmur of her name a sense of peace
And freedom brought to him. And now once more
He humbly prayed to God that he might be
Forgiven for his sin, and find a peace
Of heart, and full acceptance in His sight.
II THE CONTEST OF SONG AND LOVE
The Landgrave's gilded hall was all bedecked
In preparation for the minstrel knights
Who would contest in skill upon the harp.
Though named were all contestants long before,
Tannhauser's name was added to the list
In recognition of his marvelous skill
And, too, in honor of his coming home.
Before the minstrel hour the princess, fair
Elizabeth, came in the hall to feast
Her eyes upon the place where, long before,
Tannhauser's harp and voice awoke her heart
To such fond sympathy and ardent love.
When now at last he had returned her heart
Was beating fast with its tumultous joy,
And scarcely could await the hour when she
Could see her noble knight and hear his voice again.
At last the hour arrived, and to the hall
The princess came. Her white, soft draperies,
Embroidered in rich colors, fell around
Her graceful form in many folds, and on
Her brow a crown of fretted gold proclaimed
Thuringia's princess, fair Elizabeth.
She was of northern birth, in coloring
Was fair, and had the clear blue eyes with which
The daughters of the cold and far north skies
So often are endowed. And for her hand
The prince, brave knights and nobles from afar,
Came suing ardently. To all of whom
She was unfailing kind, but ever proud,
And cold and stately in her pride, the pride
In generations of her noble blood.
One knight alone had touched her heart, and while
He was away she turned her back upon
The gayeties of the realm. But once again,
Now that he had returned, her spirit thrilled
With quickened heartbeats of her happiness,
And sent its sparkling gleams to her blue eyes.
In preparation for the minstrel knights
Who would contest in skill upon the harp.
Though named were all contestants long before,
Tannhauser's name was added to the list
In recognition of his marvelous skill
And, too, in honor of his coming home.
Before the minstrel hour the princess, fair
Elizabeth, came in the hall to feast
Her eyes upon the place where, long before,
Tannhauser's harp and voice awoke her heart
To such fond sympathy and ardent love.
When now at last he had returned her heart
Was beating fast with its tumultous joy,
And scarcely could await the hour when she
Could see her noble knight and hear his voice again.
67
The princess came. Her white, soft draperies,
Embroidered in rich colors, fell around
Her graceful form in many folds, and on
Her brow a crown of fretted gold proclaimed
Thuringia's princess, fair Elizabeth.
She was of northern birth, in coloring
Was fair, and had the clear blue eyes with which
The daughters of the cold and far north skies
So often are endowed. And for her hand
The prince, brave knights and nobles from afar,
Came suing ardently. To all of whom
She was unfailing kind, but ever proud,
And cold and stately in her pride, the pride
In generations of her noble blood.
One knight alone had touched her heart, and while
He was away she turned her back upon
The gayeties of the realm. But once again,
Now that he had returned, her spirit thrilled
With quickened heartbeats of her happiness,
And sent its sparkling gleams to her blue eyes.
Into the minstrel hall the noble knights
Came, bearing each his harp. Elizabeth
In queenly beauty stood with welcome smiles,
But yet with searching eyes for one above
All other knights. He came, by Wolfram led,
In through a doorway at the side. “Ah, there
She is,—the princess,” Wolfram softly said,
And turned away, upon a pillar leaned
All richly carved, and fixed his gaze upon
The quiet beauty of the vale without.
“O! princess fair!” he heard Tannhauser cry,
And then her voice, with love, which softly said,
“You must not kneel to me.” He heard no more,
Save now and then a word, a phrase which filled
His heart with cold despair, for Wolfram, too,
The princess loved, but in his noble heart—
His heart as noble as his name—he now
Relinquished all his hopes for those he loved,
And who would find their joy in mutual love.
Came, bearing each his harp. Elizabeth
In queenly beauty stood with welcome smiles,
But yet with searching eyes for one above
All other knights. He came, by Wolfram led,
In through a doorway at the side. “Ah, there
She is,—the princess,” Wolfram softly said,
And turned away, upon a pillar leaned
68
The quiet beauty of the vale without.
“O! princess fair!” he heard Tannhauser cry,
And then her voice, with love, which softly said,
“You must not kneel to me.” He heard no more,
Save now and then a word, a phrase which filled
His heart with cold despair, for Wolfram, too,
The princess loved, but in his noble heart—
His heart as noble as his name—he now
Relinquished all his hopes for those he loved,
And who would find their joy in mutual love.
The Landgrave, smiling, came into the hall,
And in her joy Elizabeth herself
Threw in his arms, so great her happiness.
Together mounted they the royal seat
To wait the coming of the knights and guests,
All bidden to the feast of love and song.
Four pages called the guests as they arrived;
The Landgrave, with all stately courtesy,
The princess, with the utmost graciousness,
Made welcome there the knights and all the guests,
Arrayed in rich medieval dress. There stood
Behind them all the men-at-arms; also
The Landgrave's brave retainers lined the wall.
The swinging lamps revealed the columns rich
In carving. When the guests had all arrived,
The Landgrave stood and said the contest was
Of love in song, and he who won should have
The hand of fair Elizabeth, he pledged;
Not doubting once that he would win in song
Who had already won Elizabeth
In ardent love. “All hail! Thuringia's lord!”
The minstrels cried in greeting to his speech.
And in her joy Elizabeth herself
Threw in his arms, so great her happiness.
Together mounted they the royal seat
To wait the coming of the knights and guests,
All bidden to the feast of love and song.
Four pages called the guests as they arrived;
The Landgrave, with all stately courtesy,
The princess, with the utmost graciousness,
Made welcome there the knights and all the guests,
Arrayed in rich medieval dress. There stood
Behind them all the men-at-arms; also
The Landgrave's brave retainers lined the wall.
The swinging lamps revealed the columns rich
In carving. When the guests had all arrived,
The Landgrave stood and said the contest was
Of love in song, and he who won should have
The hand of fair Elizabeth, he pledged;
69
Who had already won Elizabeth
In ardent love. “All hail! Thuringia's lord!”
The minstrels cried in greeting to his speech.
Then came deep silence as the pages passed
The golden cup in which each minstrel dropped
A folded slip of paper with his name.
Then from the golden cup Elizabeth
Drew out a name and gave it to the page
Who raised his voice and cried,
“Herr Wolfram Eschenbach in song begin.”
Upon his feet Von Eschenbach arose
And to his harp's soft rippling cadences
Began to sing: first of brave knights and to
Fair ladies present in the hall. Then to
Elizabeth his pent-up soul in song
Poured out the mighty passion of his love.
He sang in noble fervor to the star
Of love embodied in the princess fair.
Applause from all the guests and minstrels rang
Save from Tannhauser, seeming lost in dreams,
From which he did not rouse until the page
Announced his name as next upon the slip
Drawn by the princess from the golden cup.
The golden cup in which each minstrel dropped
A folded slip of paper with his name.
Then from the golden cup Elizabeth
Drew out a name and gave it to the page
Who raised his voice and cried,
“Herr Wolfram Eschenbach in song begin.”
Upon his feet Von Eschenbach arose
And to his harp's soft rippling cadences
Began to sing: first of brave knights and to
Fair ladies present in the hall. Then to
Elizabeth his pent-up soul in song
Poured out the mighty passion of his love.
He sang in noble fervor to the star
Of love embodied in the princess fair.
Applause from all the guests and minstrels rang
Save from Tannhauser, seeming lost in dreams,
From which he did not rouse until the page
Announced his name as next upon the slip
Drawn by the princess from the golden cup.
He took his harp, but hardly knowing what
He did, for wild excitement seized his mind.
Once more rose-colored mists before his eyes
Arose, and voices whispered in his ears.
He stood as blind, with throbbing heart, and swayed
As sways an oak with storm and tempest tossed.
“I, too, have seen the fount of love,” he cried,
And then his vow, back in the Venusburg:
That Venus, when he sang, should be his theme,
Enchained his memory. He smote his harp
And sang with stormy music till the roof
With praise of Venus rang. Still higher rose
His voice in eulogy of fairest, then,
Of all enchantresses. At last he flung
Away his harp and cried, “I fly, I fly
Back to the Venusburg.” Entranced, transfixed,
He stood, his harp unnoticed at his feet.
He did, for wild excitement seized his mind.
Once more rose-colored mists before his eyes
Arose, and voices whispered in his ears.
70
As sways an oak with storm and tempest tossed.
“I, too, have seen the fount of love,” he cried,
And then his vow, back in the Venusburg:
That Venus, when he sang, should be his theme,
Enchained his memory. He smote his harp
And sang with stormy music till the roof
With praise of Venus rang. Still higher rose
His voice in eulogy of fairest, then,
Of all enchantresses. At last he flung
Away his harp and cried, “I fly, I fly
Back to the Venusburg.” Entranced, transfixed,
He stood, his harp unnoticed at his feet.
In horror-stricken tones the nobles cried,
“Hear him! Hear him! So to the Venusburg
This wandering knight has been. Press forward, all,
And in his blood bathe every sword.” With cries
The ladies hastened from the hall, save fair
Elizabeth, who stood there shuddering
Betwixt her horror and her mighty love.
Increased the clamor and the great tumult
From every side as came the cry, “Kill him!”
And, pressing on, the nobles drew their swords
To do their deadly work. “Brave knights, stop” cried
Elizabeth; “Or else kill me. Stand back!”
Her tones were full of mingled love and deep
Despair, and yet surcharged with dignity
And stern command. The nobles all fell back,
Amazed to see their princess shield a wretch
As was Tannhauser now. Her voice all full
Of piteous tragedy continued in
Her plea: “What is the wounds your swords could give
To this death-stroke which has been dealt to me?”
The nobles cried, “This fallen and false knight
You should be first indeed to scorn.” She said,
“Why do you speak of me? Of this poor knight,
Of him and his salvation, you should speak.
This knight, by dreadful magic bound, can yet,
Through sorrow and repentance, break his chains,
And win forgiveness from the pitying Lord.
I plead for him, for his dear life I plead.”
“Hear him! Hear him! So to the Venusburg
This wandering knight has been. Press forward, all,
And in his blood bathe every sword.” With cries
The ladies hastened from the hall, save fair
Elizabeth, who stood there shuddering
Betwixt her horror and her mighty love.
Increased the clamor and the great tumult
From every side as came the cry, “Kill him!”
And, pressing on, the nobles drew their swords
To do their deadly work. “Brave knights, stop” cried
Elizabeth; “Or else kill me. Stand back!”
Her tones were full of mingled love and deep
Despair, and yet surcharged with dignity
And stern command. The nobles all fell back,
Amazed to see their princess shield a wretch
71
Of piteous tragedy continued in
Her plea: “What is the wounds your swords could give
To this death-stroke which has been dealt to me?”
The nobles cried, “This fallen and false knight
You should be first indeed to scorn.” She said,
“Why do you speak of me? Of this poor knight,
Of him and his salvation, you should speak.
This knight, by dreadful magic bound, can yet,
Through sorrow and repentance, break his chains,
And win forgiveness from the pitying Lord.
I plead for him, for his dear life I plead.”
Tannhauser, softened by her pleading words
And his own deep remorse, bowed low his head
And wept. The knights, now softened by his grief,
More gently spoke, but still in deep reproach.
At last the Landgrave spoke with kindness and
Command, the course Tannhauser must pursue,
Because around him clung the magic spells
And dark enchantment lingered in his heart.
He must go forth and not return again
To fair Thuringia till his soul was free
From all the spells of Venus. He advised
Tannhauser to unite himself with pilgrims,
Then setting out for Rome to seek the Pope
And pray for pardon for their sins. And while
He talked there came from far without the chant
Of voices sweet and low, which brought a peace
And gentle rest into the minstrel hall,
Which short before with strife and tumult rang.
Tannhauser heard the chant; with rising hope
And with a sudden impulse rose and said,
“I go to Rome.” “to Rome!” the nobles cried.
The nobles, Landgrave and Elizabeth,
All cried with one loud voice to speed him on
From the great doorway of the Hall, “To Rome!”
And his own deep remorse, bowed low his head
And wept. The knights, now softened by his grief,
More gently spoke, but still in deep reproach.
At last the Landgrave spoke with kindness and
Command, the course Tannhauser must pursue,
Because around him clung the magic spells
And dark enchantment lingered in his heart.
He must go forth and not return again
To fair Thuringia till his soul was free
From all the spells of Venus. He advised
Tannhauser to unite himself with pilgrims,
Then setting out for Rome to seek the Pope
And pray for pardon for their sins. And while
He talked there came from far without the chant
Of voices sweet and low, which brought a peace
And gentle rest into the minstrel hall,
72
Tannhauser heard the chant; with rising hope
And with a sudden impulse rose and said,
“I go to Rome.” “to Rome!” the nobles cried.
The nobles, Landgrave and Elizabeth,
All cried with one loud voice to speed him on
From the great doorway of the Hall, “To Rome!”
III THE PILGRIMAGE AND STAFF
Now full of hope and deep repentance too,
Tannhauser hastened on his pilgrimage
To Rome. The road was long and rough and full
Of weariness, with none to aid him save
His staff. But his own deep remorse, also
His reborn faith in God, his reverent love
Now for Elizabeth made easy all the way.
When other pilgrims through the meadows went
And sought the gentle paths, he turned aside
To bruise his feet in thorns and stony ways.
The wayside streams he passed and bore his thirst.
In silence and contrition pressing on,
He filled his mind with hope and noble thoughts
Of future deeds and life all free from sin.
Tannhauser hastened on his pilgrimage
To Rome. The road was long and rough and full
Of weariness, with none to aid him save
His staff. But his own deep remorse, also
His reborn faith in God, his reverent love
Now for Elizabeth made easy all the way.
When other pilgrims through the meadows went
And sought the gentle paths, he turned aside
To bruise his feet in thorns and stony ways.
The wayside streams he passed and bore his thirst.
In silence and contrition pressing on,
He filled his mind with hope and noble thoughts
Of future deeds and life all free from sin.
At last when many days were passed he came
To Rome. The bells were pealing forth in joy,
And anthems filled the air in promise of
The pardons for the weary pilgrim band,
As one by one they sought the presence of the Pope
And from him found the full assurance of
Forgiveness for their sins. Then came at last
Tannhauser's turn. In deep repentance now
He humbly knelt and told of all his sin:
The Venusburg, its dark and evil spells,
His wasted year, his fearful seizure in
The minstrel hall. For mercy now he begged
The Pope, and from enchantment to be freed.
But sternly spoke his papal lord, “If you
Have been into the Venusburg, and there
Enchanted by its magic powers and spells,
You will succumb again, and you may hope
For God's forgiveness when my staff puts forth
Green leaves.” Struck dumb with grief and deep despair
Tannhauser staggered forth. In hopelessness
He fell upon the ground and wished for death.
At last when he arose, the pilgrim band
Had passed its way toward home, and from afar
Its chorus of thanksgiving faintly reached
His ears. Tannhauser took his staff, alone
To wander on he knew not where, bereft
Of consolation, and of hope and love.
To Rome. The bells were pealing forth in joy,
And anthems filled the air in promise of
73
As one by one they sought the presence of the Pope
And from him found the full assurance of
Forgiveness for their sins. Then came at last
Tannhauser's turn. In deep repentance now
He humbly knelt and told of all his sin:
The Venusburg, its dark and evil spells,
His wasted year, his fearful seizure in
The minstrel hall. For mercy now he begged
The Pope, and from enchantment to be freed.
But sternly spoke his papal lord, “If you
Have been into the Venusburg, and there
Enchanted by its magic powers and spells,
You will succumb again, and you may hope
For God's forgiveness when my staff puts forth
Green leaves.” Struck dumb with grief and deep despair
Tannhauser staggered forth. In hopelessness
He fell upon the ground and wished for death.
At last when he arose, the pilgrim band
Had passed its way toward home, and from afar
Its chorus of thanksgiving faintly reached
His ears. Tannhauser took his staff, alone
To wander on he knew not where, bereft
Of consolation, and of hope and love.
And far, far away in secret prayed
Elizabeth in agonizing love
To God that He might save Tannhauser's soul,
And bring him back to her from magic powers
Redeemed. The year passed on and bringing near
The time the pilgrims must return from Rome.
Elizabeth more anxious grew; there spread
Upon her face a greater sign of fear
And growing sadness, which Von Eschenbach
Was quick to see. He sought to comfort her
With gentle words, and unobtrusive love,
And ever watchful care. Elizabeth
Was grateful for his deep solicitude
And love, but could not give him love for love.
Thus, day by day, down to the Virgin's shrine,
Where passed the pilgrims on their road from Rome,
She came to pray, until one day there came
Upon the wind the echo of a song
Which she well knew. “It is their song,” she cried
With heart half bursting with its hope and fear,
Its pent-up agony and love. She strained
Her eyes to see the coming pilgrim band,
And of the band the pilgrim whom she loved.
Still onward came the pilgrims as they sang
Triumphantly of God—His mighty love,
And His forgiveness of their sins. And they,
Unseeing, passed her by while she saw them,
But saw not with them that dear pilgrim face
She sought. “No more will he return,” she said,
And, with the wound of death upon her face,
She sought the palace hall to wait and die.
For die she must, she knew, without his love.
To see his face no more; to hear his voice
No more; was more than she could bear and live.
A few more days were passed so quietly
None in the palace thought Elizabeth
Was near the end of life, or that her grief
And love were yet so great that she must die.
They thought her youth would yet assert itself
And time would bring a solace to her love,
And heal her broken heart. But scarcely was
The sun up from the glowing East when she
One morning called the Landgrave to her bed,
And all the household dear, and bade tham all,
A last farewell. And while they wept for her
She closed her eyes and died. So gently did
She pass she seemed as one who slept.
And then Elizabeth was laid to rest
With swelling music, and with holy mass,
And gorgeous obsequies becoming to
Her princely race and noble line of kings.
Elizabeth in agonizing love
To God that He might save Tannhauser's soul,
And bring him back to her from magic powers
74
The time the pilgrims must return from Rome.
Elizabeth more anxious grew; there spread
Upon her face a greater sign of fear
And growing sadness, which Von Eschenbach
Was quick to see. He sought to comfort her
With gentle words, and unobtrusive love,
And ever watchful care. Elizabeth
Was grateful for his deep solicitude
And love, but could not give him love for love.
Thus, day by day, down to the Virgin's shrine,
Where passed the pilgrims on their road from Rome,
She came to pray, until one day there came
Upon the wind the echo of a song
Which she well knew. “It is their song,” she cried
With heart half bursting with its hope and fear,
Its pent-up agony and love. She strained
Her eyes to see the coming pilgrim band,
And of the band the pilgrim whom she loved.
Still onward came the pilgrims as they sang
Triumphantly of God—His mighty love,
And His forgiveness of their sins. And they,
Unseeing, passed her by while she saw them,
But saw not with them that dear pilgrim face
She sought. “No more will he return,” she said,
And, with the wound of death upon her face,
She sought the palace hall to wait and die.
For die she must, she knew, without his love.
To see his face no more; to hear his voice
No more; was more than she could bear and live.
75
None in the palace thought Elizabeth
Was near the end of life, or that her grief
And love were yet so great that she must die.
They thought her youth would yet assert itself
And time would bring a solace to her love,
And heal her broken heart. But scarcely was
The sun up from the glowing East when she
One morning called the Landgrave to her bed,
And all the household dear, and bade tham all,
A last farewell. And while they wept for her
She closed her eyes and died. So gently did
She pass she seemed as one who slept.
And then Elizabeth was laid to rest
With swelling music, and with holy mass,
And gorgeous obsequies becoming to
Her princely race and noble line of kings.
Wolfram von Eschenbach stood on a hill
One day above the shrine more sacred now
To him because in prayer Elizabeth
Had knelt so often there. The twilight hour
Came on and brightly shone the evening star,
And as he watched he felt as if it were
The shining spirit of Elizabeth.
He struck his harp and softly sang a song
In which he made the lovely evening star
In its soft radiance to symbolize
Elizabeth in purity and love.
And, while he sang, he saw in ragged garb
A pilgrim leaning hard upon his staff
As he approached, and on his haggard face
The marks of deep despair and hopelessness.
And when the pilgrim spoke he recognized
Tannhauser, whom he kindly welcomed home.
“Tell me the story of your pilgrimage,”
He said. Briefly Tannhauser told him all,
And said, “When I have seen Elizabeth
Once more, I leave this valley never to
Return again.” “Alas,” Von Wolfram said,
“Elizabeth is dead. She died for you.
In daily prayer for you and faithful love,
She pined her life away, and now a saint
In heaven she pleads with everlasting love
For you.” Tannhauser fell upon the earth
With grief too much to bear. And while he lay,
Behold, swift messengers came from the Pope
And bore aloft the papal staff and sang
Of a great marvel wrought by God, for now
The staff put forth green leaves in token of
Tannhauser's full redemption from his sins.
The evening star in gentle radiance
Shone down upon the pilgrim's face at last
Reposing in the calm and peace of death.
One day above the shrine more sacred now
To him because in prayer Elizabeth
Had knelt so often there. The twilight hour
Came on and brightly shone the evening star,
And as he watched he felt as if it were
The shining spirit of Elizabeth.
He struck his harp and softly sang a song
In which he made the lovely evening star
In its soft radiance to symbolize
Elizabeth in purity and love.
And, while he sang, he saw in ragged garb
76
As he approached, and on his haggard face
The marks of deep despair and hopelessness.
And when the pilgrim spoke he recognized
Tannhauser, whom he kindly welcomed home.
“Tell me the story of your pilgrimage,”
He said. Briefly Tannhauser told him all,
And said, “When I have seen Elizabeth
Once more, I leave this valley never to
Return again.” “Alas,” Von Wolfram said,
“Elizabeth is dead. She died for you.
In daily prayer for you and faithful love,
She pined her life away, and now a saint
In heaven she pleads with everlasting love
For you.” Tannhauser fell upon the earth
With grief too much to bear. And while he lay,
Behold, swift messengers came from the Pope
And bore aloft the papal staff and sang
Of a great marvel wrought by God, for now
The staff put forth green leaves in token of
Tannhauser's full redemption from his sins.
The evening star in gentle radiance
Shone down upon the pilgrim's face at last
Reposing in the calm and peace of death.
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