"Have I not poured the sweetest wine Daily for thee, my spouse? And have I not with roses, dear, Each day enwreathed thy brows?" "Dame Venus, loveliest of dames, My soul is sick, I swear, Of kisses, roses and sweet wine, And craveth bitter fare. "We have laughed and jested far too much, And I yearn for tears this morn. Would that my head no rose-wreath wore, But a crown of sharpest thorn." "My noble knight, my Tannhaeuser, To vex me thou art fain. Hast thou not sworn a thousand times To leave me never again? "Come! to my chamber let us go; Our love shall be secret there. And thy gloomy thoughts shall vanish at sight Of my lily-white body fair." "Dame Venus, loveliest of dames, Immortal thy charms remain. As many have loved thee ere to-day, So many shall love again. "But when I think of the heroes and gods, Who feasted long ago, Upon thy lily-white body fair, Then sad at heart I grow. Thy lily-white body filleth me With loathing, for I see How many more in years to come Shall enjoy thee, after me." "My noble knight, my Tannhaeuser, Such words thou should'st not say. Far liefer had I thou dealt'st me a blow, As often ere this day. "Far liefer had I thou should'st strike me low, Than such an insult speak; Cold, thankless Christian that thou art, Thus the pride of my heart to break. "Because I have loved thee far too well, To hear such words is my fate, Farewell! I give thee free leave to go. Myself, I open the gate!" II. In Rome, in Rome, in the holy town, To the music of chimes and of song, A stately procession moves,--the Pope Strides in the midst of the throng. This is the pious Pope Urbain; The triple crown he wears, The crimson robe,--and many a lord The train of his garment bears. "Oh, holy Father, Pope Urbain, I have a tale to tell; I stir not hence, till thou shrivest me, And savest me from hell." The people stand in a circle near, And the priestly anthems cease; Who is the pilgrim wan and wild, Who falleth upon his knees? "Oh, holy Father, Pope Urbain, Who canst bind and loose as well, Now save me from the evil one, And from the pains of hell. "I am the noble Tannhaeuser, Who love and lust would win, These lured me to the Venusberg, Seven years I bode therein. "Dame Venus is a beauteous dame, Her charms have a subtle glow. Like sunshine with fragrance of flowers blent Is her voice so soft and low. "As the butterfly flutters anigh a flower, From its delicate chalice sips, In such wise ever fluttered my soul Anigh to her rosy lips. "Her rich black ringlets floating loose, Her noble face enwreath. When once her large eyes rest on thee, Thou canst not stir nor breathe.