Tannhäuser

Sin-satiate, and haggard with despair,
Freed from the unholy mountain's baleful spell,
Forth coming from the very pit of Hell,
The fallen knight repentant kneels in prayer.
But hark! what solemn strains fill all the air?
What pilgrim chants now on the morning swell,
And pour hope's balm upon his soul, and tell
Of pardon, if he to Christ's seat repair?
With fervent heart he treads the weary way,
Kneels at the throne of God's anointed, hears
The fearful doom repentance may not stay:
And yet, in death's last gasp—if he but heed—
An angel voice soft whispers in his ears
That for him too the Saviour once did bleed.