“Have I each day the sweetest wine “Not pour’d out for you gaily? “And have I not always crown’d your head “With fragrant roses daily?”-- “Dear Venus, lovely mistress, in truth “My soul no longer finds pleasing “These endless kisses and luscious wine,-- “I long for something that’s teasing. “Too much have we jested, too much have we laugh’d, “My heart for tears has long panted; “Each rose on my head I fain would see “By pointed thorns supplanted.”-- “Tannhauser, dear and noble knight, “You fain would vex and grieve me; “An oath you have sworn a thousand times “That you would never leave me. “Come, let us into the chamber go, “To taste of love’s rapture and gladness, “And there my fair and lily-white form “Shall drive away thy sadness.”-- “Dear Venus, lovely mistress, thy charms “Will bloom for ever and ever; “As many already have glow’d for thee, “So men will forget thee never! “But when I think of the heroes and gods “Who erst have taken their pleasure “In clasping thy fair and lily-white form “My anger knows no measure. “Thy fair and lily-white figure with dread “Is filling me even this minute, “When thinking how many in after times “Will still take pleasure in it!”-- “Tannhauser, dear and noble knight, “You should not utter such treason; “’T’were better to beat me, as you have before “Oft done for many a season. “’T’were better to beat me, than such harsh words “Of insult thus to have spoken, “Whereby, O Christian ungrateful and cold, “The pride in my bosom is broken. “Because I love you so much, I forgive “Your evil words, thankless mortal; “Farewell, I grant you permission to leave, “I’ll open myself the portal.” 2. In Rome, in the holy city of Rome, With singing and ringing and blowing A grand procession is moving on, The Pope in the middle is going. The pious Pope Urban is his name, The triple crown he is wearing, He wears a red and purple robe, And Barons his train are bearing. “O holy Father, Pope Urban, stay! “I will not move from my station, “Until thou hast saved my soul from hell, “And heard my supplication!”-- The ghostly songs are suddenly mute, The people fall backwards dumbly; O who is the pilgrim pale and wild Who bends to the Pope so humbly? “O holy Father, Pope Urban, to whom “To bind and to loose not too much is, “O save me from the pangs of hell, “And out of the Evil One’s clutches! “By name, I’m the noble Tannhauser call’d; “For love and pleasure yearning, “To the Venus’ mount I travell’d and dwelt “Seven years there without returning.