Collected Works (Vol. I)

258 TANNHAUSER We are not so feeble /—But death anyhow Cuts and not loosens the entangled life. Be mine the harder and the better way, The single chance: not hope; appeal no more $ Hardly the arrowy wisdom of despair ; Hardly the cowardice or courage yet To drift, nor cursing nor invoking God. ELIZABETH. I heard, I pure, I virginal, your song; The shameful story of your intercourse With—fiend or woman? And your burning will, Even in that horror, to the Highest ; at last Your choice of me—the middle course of them, Pure human love? And, if your song be true, As I, who heard the voice, the earnestness, Saw the deep eyes, and truth aflame in them, Know—then the choice be Mary’s and not mine } I love you better, were that possible ; Will make you a true wife, and lead your hand, Or be led by you, in the pleasant path. For me, I enter not—Blesséd be God !— In those dark problems that disturb your soul. Mine is the simple nature. Look at me! TANNHAUSER, O Lady pure, miracle of true love, I have a bitter word and harsh to say. This is my curse—no sooner do I speak, Or formulate my mind in iron words, Than my mind grows, o’erleaps the limit set, And I perceive the truth that lies beyond— One further step into a new-fallen night. Hear then—I hate to hurt your perfect soul ; I hate myself because I love you still In that strange intermediate consciousness, The reason and the mind! This middle way Ancients called safe’—that damns it in- stantly! Without some danger nothing great is done ! Let me be God! Or, failing of that task, 1 "In medio tutissimus ibis.”—Ovib., Were it but by an unit, let me fall! And, falling, be it from so great a height That I may reach some uttermost Abyss, Inhabit it and reign, most evil one Of all the Horrors there—and in that path Seem, even deluded, to approach once more Infinity. For all the limitless Hath no distinction —evil is no more, And good no more. ELIZABETH. But God is absolute Good ! TANNHAUSER. No! Heis Not! That negative alone Shadows His shadow to our mortal mind. ELIZABETH. That is too deep ; I cannot fathom you. TANNHAUSER. Define, give utterance to this ‘‘Good.”” You see God slips you, He the Undefinable ! Not good ! Not wise! Not anything at all That heart can grasp, or reason fram’, or soul Shadow the sense of ! ELIZABETH. He is far too great ! I see! TANNHAUSER. Not great! The consciousness of man Their many generations moulded so To fix in definite ideas, and clothe Their Maker in the rags. If sk?es are vast, So gems are tiny : who shall choose between? Who reads the riddle of the Universe? All words! Thus, from his rock-wrought peeking-point Out speers the hermit: ‘‘See, the sun is dead !” It shines elsewhere. perch, The corner of the corner of the earth, You from your tiny