bain,
Who canst bind and loose as well,
Now save me from the evil one,
And from the pains of hell!"

Sadly the Pope upraised his hand,
And sadly began to speak:
"Tannhaeuser, most wretched of all men,
This spell thou canst not break.

"The devil called Venus is the worst
Amongst all we name as such.
And nevermore canst thou be redeemed
From the beautiful witch's clutch.

"Thou with thy spirit must atone
For the joys thou hast loved so well;
Accursed art thou! thou are condemned
Unto everlasting hell!"

III.

So quickly fared Sir Tannhaeuser,--
His feet were bleeding and torn--
Back to the Venusberg he came,
Ere the earliest streak of morn.

Dame Venus, awakened from her sleep,
From her bed upsprang in haste.
Already she hath with her arms so white
Her darling spouse embraced.

Forth from her nose outstreams the blood,
The tears from her eyelids start;
She moistens the face of her darling spouse
With the tears and blood of her heart.

The knight lay down upon her bed,
And not a word he spake;
Dame Venus to the kitchen went
A bowl of broth to make.

She gave him broth, she gave him bread,
She bathed his wounded feet;
She combed for him his matted hair,
And laughed so low and sweet:

"My noble knight, my Tannhaeuser,
Long hast thou left my side.
Now tell me in what foreign lands
So long thou couldst abide."

"Dame Venus, loveliest of dames,
I tarried far from home.
In Rome I had some business, dear,
But quickly back have come.

"On seven hills great Rome is built,
The Tiber flows to the sea.
And while in Rome I saw the Pope;
He sent his love to thee.

"Through Florence led my journey home,
Through Milan, too, I passed;
And glad at heart, through Switzerland
I clambered back at last.

"But as I went across the Alps,
The snow began to fall;
Below, the blue lakes smiled on me;
I heard the eagles call.

"When I upon St. Gothard stood,
I heard the Germans snore;
For softly slumbered there below
Some thirty kings and more.

"To Frankfort I on _Schobbas_ came,
Where dumplings were my food.
They have the best religion there:
Goose-giblets, too, are good.

"In Weimar, the widowed muse's seat,
Midst general grief I arrive.
The people are crying 'Goethe's dead,
And Eckermann's still ali