Tannhäuser

Landgrave. Passion and music—but no Principle ! How different is Tannhauser! ( To the unknown minstrel^ You, sir, next ! Sing of pure love and noble womanhood. Our court loves not these wastrel troubadours, Loose locks, flushed faces, soul's unseemliness. The Unknown Minstrel (sings). Amid earth's motley, Gaia's cap and bells, This too material, too unreal life, Sing, sing the crown of tender miracles, The pure true wife ! Sing not of love, the unutterable one, The love divine that Mary has to men. Seek not the winepress and the rising sun Beyond thy ken ! Tannhauser [aside). Who is this man that reads my inmost thought ? The Unknown Minstrel. I sing of love, most delicate and pure, Surely the crown of life ! How slow and sweet Its music ! Shall the ecstasy endure, Sunshine on wheat ? 104