“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.
“This Venus is a woman fair
“With charms of dazzling splendour;
Like light of sun and flowers’ sweet scent
“Her voice is gentle and tender.
“As a butterfly flutters around a flower
“And from its calyx sips too,
So flutters my soul for evermore
“Around her rosy lips too.
“Around her noble features entwine
“Her blooming black locks wildly;
Thy breath would be gone if once her great eyes
“Were fix’d upon thee mildly.
“If her great eyes upon thee were fix’d
“They surely would harass thee greatly;
’Twas with the greatest trouble that I
“Escaped from the mountain lately.
“From out of the mountain I made my escape
“And yet for ever pursue me
“The looks of the beautiful woman, which seem
“To say ‘O hasten back to me!’
“A wretched spectre by day I’ve become,
“At night I vainly would hide me
“In sleep, for I dream that my mistress dear
“Is sitting and laughing beside me.