Tannhäuser

The stars are buried in the mist of light. Beyond the hill the world is, and laments Existence —the wide firmament of woe ! And he—his heart was great enough for all, The fall of sparrows as the crash of stars, The tears of lonely forests, and the pain Of the least atom —all were in his heart. Was that indeed the truth ? that he should come At last a Christ upon the waiting world. Redeem it to more purpose than the last ! So fills his sorrow, and Her sympathy, My common soul, that I am fain to fall Upon my face, and cry aloud to God : " O Thou, Sole Wise, Sole Pure, Sole Merciful, Who hast thus shewn Thy mystery to man : Grant that his coming may be very soon ! " See, the sobs shake me like a little child. The moon is crescent, waxing in the West. Take the last kiss, dear. What is the strange song ? [ The great Goddess ariseth, weeping for the slain Osiris Tannkduser. Isis. Isis am I, and from my life are fed All stars and suns, all moons that wax and wane, 141