After the beauty of bare, rosy limbs, And odorous, loose hair! He noted not Suspicious glances on his garb uncouth, His air extravagant and face distraught, With bursts of laughter from the red-cheeked boys, And prudent crossings of the women's breasts. He passed the flowering close about the church, And trod the well worn-path, with throbbing heart, The little heather-bell between his lips, And his eyes fastened on the good green grass. Thus entered he the sanctuary, lit With frequent tapers, and with sunbeams stained Through painted glass. How pure and innocent The waiting congregation seemed to him, Kneeling, or seated with calm brows upraised! With faltering strength, he cowered down alone, And held sincere communion with the Lord, For one brief moment, in a sudden gush Of blessed tears. The minister of God Rose to invoke a blessing on his flock, And then began the service,--not in words To raise the lowly, and to heal the sick, But an alien tongue, with phrases formed, And meaningless observances. The knight, Unmoved, yet thirsting for the simple word That might have moved him, held his bitter thoughts, But when in his own speech a new priest spake, Looked up with hope revived, and heard the text: "Go, preach the Gospel unto all the world. He that believes and is baptized, is saved. He that believeth not, is damned in hell!" He sat with neck thrust forth and staring eyes; The crowded congregation disappeared; He felt alone in some black sea of hell, While a great light smote one exalted face, Vivid already with prophetic fire, Whose fatal mouth now thundered forth his doom. He longed in that void circle to cry out, With one clear shriek, but sense and voice seemed bound, And his parched tongue clave useless to his mouth. As the last words resounded through the church, And once again the pastor blessed his flock, Who, serious and subdued, passed slowly down The arrow aisle, none noted, near the wall, A fallen man with face upon his knees, A heap of huddled garments and loose hair, Unconscious 'mid the rustling, murmurous stir, 'Midst light and rural smell of grass and flowers, Let in athwart the doorway. One lone priest, Darkening the altar lights, moved noiselessly, Now with the yellow glow upon his face, Now a black shadow gliding farther on, Amidst the smooth, slim pillars of hewn ash. But from the vacant aisles he heard at once A hollow sigh, heaved from a depth profound. Upholding his last light above his head, And peering eagerly amidst the stalls, He cried, "Be blest who cometh in God's name." Then the gaunt form of Tannhauser arose. "Father, I am a sinner, and I seek Forgiveness and help, by whatso means