"When I beheld a heavy burdened pilgrim,
It seemed to me his load was all too light.
And if he sought a pathway o'er the meadow,
I trod, unshod, amid the rock and thorns.
If he refreshed his lips by cooling fountains,
The brazen sun poured on my head forlorn,
When he besought the saints in murmur'd prayer,
I shed my life-blood in the cause divine;
When in the hospice he sought rest and shelter,
On ice and snow it was that I sought mine!"
Amidst such hardships as these the poor pilgrim had at length reached Rome, and humbly kneeling before the sacred shrine, had begged the Pope to grant him Heaven's forgiveness.
But when the Pope had listened to his confession he said the sin was too great for pardon, and declared that it was as impossible for one who had dwelt in the evil Courts of Venus to hope for Heaven's forgiveness as it was for the rood in his hand to put forth green leaves.
And then, scorned by one and all, with his sin still unabsolved, and the hand of Elisabeth farther away from him than ever, the wretched Tannhäuser had followed in the wake of the homeward-bound pilgrims: and now, having finished his story, and being full of despair, he called wildly upon the goddess Venus to receive him into her dazzling Courts of Love once more.
In answer to his call, the sounds of enchanting music were distinctly heard in the distance, and in a thick, billowy mist that began to encircle the Hörselberg, the lovely form of Venus became dimly visible; but Wolfram implored the despairing Knight to refrain from again sharing these evil joys that would ruin his soul, and still to think only of repentance for his sin.
But Tannhäuser was hopeless, and felt that, scorned by the world, and denied to Heaven, the Court of Venus was the only haven left to him; and though he loathed the thought of its cloying pleasures, he was just about to yield to the enticing calls of the fair goddess, when another incident occurred.
At this moment, the solemn funeral procession of Elisabeth came slowly by, and passed along the mountain path, with mourning knights and weeping maidens singing a low requiem hymn; and at the same time, a fresh band of pilgrims appeared on the heights above and announced that a miracle had taken place on the night of Tannhäuser's departure from Rome. The Pope's rood had put forth fresh green leaves by morning light; and taking this as a sign of Heaven's favour, he had sent messengers into every part to proclaim that Tannhäuser's sin was forgiven, and his repentance accepted.
Full of thankfulness that the prayers of Elisabeth, now an angel in Heaven, had been thus answered, Wolfram joined the pilgrims in their rejoicings for the forgiven sinner, whilst Venus disappeared within her mountain once more; but Tannhäuser, overcome with joy, and filled with a wonderful peace, sank dying beside the bier of his beloved one, and the golden gates of Heaven were opened to him at last.