I would not spare her for your wildest prayer Nor her best virtue. Is the earth's mouth full? Is the grave satisfied? Discrown me then, For life is lord, and men may mock the gods With immortality." "I sue no more, But I command thee spare this woman's life, Or wrestle with Alcides." "Wrestle with thee, Thou puny boy!" And Death laughed loud, and swelled To monstrous bulk, fierce-eyed, with outstretched wings, And lightnings round his brow; but grave and firm, Strong as a tower, Alcides waited him, And these began to wrestle, and a cloud Impenetrable fell, and all was dark. ______________________ "Farewell, Admetus and my little son, Eumelus,--O these clinging baby hands! Thy loss is bitter, for no chance, no fame, No wealth of love, can ever compensate for a dead mother. Thou, O king, fulfill The double duty: love him with my love, And make him bold to wrestle, shiver spears, Noble and manly, Grecian to the bone; And tell him that his mother spake with gods. Farewell, farewell! Mine eyes are growing blind: The darkness gathers. O my heart, my heart!" No sound made answer save the cries of grief From all the mourners, and the suppliance Of strick'n Admetus: "O have mercy, gods! O gods, have mercy, mercy upon us!" Then from the dying woman's couch again Her voice was heard, but with strange sudden tones: "Lo, I awake--the light comes back to me. What miracle is this?" And thunders shook The air, and clouds of mighty darkness fell, And the earth trembled, and weird, horrid sounds Were heard of rushing wings and fleeing feet, And groans; and all were silent, dumb with awe, Saving the king, who paused not in his prayer: "Have mercy, gods!" and then again, "O gods, Have mercy!" Through the open casement poured Bright floods of sunny light; the air was soft, Clear, delicate as though a summer storm Had passed away; and those there standing saw, Afar upon the plain, Death fleeing thence, And at the doorway, weary, well-nigh spent, Alcides, flushed with victory. TANNHAUSER. To my mother. May, 1870.