Tannhäuser

Tannhauser. Still. I am not in any sense estranged. I yearn for thee in the first hour of spring, As in the dying days of autumn. I Would clasp thee, as a child its mother's throat, Drinking celestial wine from that dear mouth, Or with goodwill see poison in thy smile. And die, still kissing thee, and kissed again ! This, though I saw thee crawl upon the earth, Howl at Her presence Whom thou wouldest ape, Thy tale reversed. I read that thunder now ! This, though I know thee. Aphrodite, no ! Nor Anael, nor Eva ! Rather thou Lilith, the woman-serpent, she who sucks The breath of little children in their sleep, Strangles young maidens, and presides upon Sterile debauchery and unnatural loves. Venus. Lilith ! Ah lover ! Thou hast known my name ! Tannhauser. So ; yet I love thee ! Rended is the veil ! Calling thee Ugliness, I guessed aright. Who saw, and see, all Beauty in thee still. Only, a beauty risen out of Hell ; 53