Collected Works (Vol. I)

256 TANNHAUSER Beyond the Toils of Time—then formulate In thine own mind, luminous, concentrate, The Lion of the Light, a child that stands On the vast shoulders of the Steed of God: Or winged, or shooting flying shafts, or shod With the flame-sandals. Then, lift up thine hands ! Centre thee in thine heart one scarlet thought Limpid with brilliance of the Light above ! Draw into nought All life, death, hatred, love : All self concentred in the sole desire— Hear thou the Voice of Fire! This hope was Zoroaster’s—this is mine! Not one but many splendours hath the Shrine: Not one but many paths approach the gate That guards the Adytum, fortifying Fate ! Mine was, by weariness of blood and brain, Mere bitter fruit of pain Sought in the darkness of an harlot’s bed, To make me as one dead : To loose the girders of the soul, and gain Breathing and life for the Intelligible; Find death, yet findit living. Deep as Hell I plunged the soul; by all blind Heaven unbound The spirit, freed, pierced through the maze profound, And knew Itself, an eagle for a dove. So in one man the height and deep of love Joined, in two states alternate (even so Are life and death)—shall one unite the two, My long impulsive strife? Did I find life ?. The real life—to know The ways of God. Alas! I never knew. Then came our Lady of the Sevenfold Light, Showed me a distant plan, distinct and clear, As twilight to the dayspring and the night, Dividing and uniting even here: The middle path—life interfused with death— Pure love; the secret of Elizabeth ! This is my secret—in the man’s delight To lose that stubborn ecstasy for God! To this clear knowledge hath my path been trod In deepest hell—in the profoundest sky ! This knowledge, the true immortality, I came unto through pain and tears, Tigerish hopes, and serpent loves, and dragon fears, Most bitter kisses, salted springs and dry ; In those deep caverns and slow-moving years, When dwelt I, in the Mount of Venus, even [! [7he spell zs broken, and uproar ensues. LANDGRAVE. The fiend! The atheist! Devil that you are ! VOICES. Kill him, ay, kill him ! TANNHAUSER, Crucify him, say ! [TANNHAUSER extends his arms as on a cross. LANDGRAVE. Blaspheme not! Dare not to insult the sign Of our Redemption! Gentlemen and peers, What say you? shall he live to boast himself, The abandoned, perjured, the apostate soul, Daring to come to our pure court to brag Of his incredible vileness? To link up The saintly purity of this my child With his seducer’s heart of hell! Death! Your cry echoes me? My voice ! VOICES. Death ! Death! TANNHAUSER. Leap out, Sword of my fathers! You have heard my harp! Its music stings your vile hypocrisy Into mere hatred. Truth is terrible ! You, cousin, taken in adultery ! You, Wolfram, lover of the kitchen maids ! You, Jerome—yes, I know your secret deeds !