companionship.  The second scene transports us to a valley, above which towers the castle of Wartburg.  A young shepherd, perched upon a rock, sings a pastoral invocation to Holda ("Frau Holda kam aus dem Berg hervor"), the strains of his pipe (an oboe obligato) weaving about the stately chorus of the elder pilgrims ("Zu dir wall’ ich, mein Herr und Gott”) as they come along the mountain paths from the castle.  The scene, which is one of great beauty, closes with the lament of Tannhaeuser ("Ach! schwer drueckt mich der Suenden Last"), intermingled with the receding song of the pilgrims, the ringing of church-bells in the distance, and the merry notes of hunters’ horns as the Landgrave and his followers approach.  The meeting with Tannhaeuser leads to an expressive septet, in which Wolfram has a very impressive solo ("Als du in kuehnem Sange").

The second act opens in the singers’ hall of the Wartburg.  Elizabeth, entering joyfully, greets it in a recitation ("Froh gruess ich dich, geliebter Raum"), if we may so term it, which is characterized by a joyous but dignified dramatic appeal, recalling the scenes of her youth.  The interview between Tannhaeuser and Elizabeth, which follows, gives rise to a long dialogue, closing with a union of the two voices in the charming duet, “Gepriesen sei die Macht.”  Then follows the grand march and chorus, “Freudig begruessen wir die edle Halle,” announcing the beginning of the song contest.  The stirring rhythm and bold, broad outlines of this march are so well known that it is needless to dwell upon it.  The scene of the contest is declamatory throughout, and full of animation and spirit; its most salient points being the hymn of Wolfram ("O Himmel lasst dich jetzt erflehen”) in honor of ideal love, and Elizabeth’s appeal to the knights to spare Tannhaeuser ("Zurueck von ihm"), which leads up to a spirited septet and choral ensemble closing the act.

In the third act we are once more in the valley of the Wartburg.  After a plaintive song by Wolfram ("Wohl wusst ich hier sie im Gebet zu finden"), the chorus of the returning pilgrims is heard in the distance, working up to a magnificent crescendo as they approach and cross the stage.  Elizabeth, who has been earnestly watching them to find if Tannhaeuser be of their number, disappointed, sinks upon her knees and sings the touching prayer, “Allmaecht’ge Jungfrau, hoer mein Flehen.”  As she leaves the scene, Wolfram takes his harp and sings the enchanting fantasy to the evening star, “O, du mein holder Abendstern,”—­a love-song to the saintly Elizabeth.  Tannhaeuser makes his appearance.  A long declamatory dialogue ensues between himself and Wolfram, in which he recites the story of his pilgrimage.  The scene is one of extraordinary power, and calls for the highest vocal and dramatic qualities in order to make it effective.  From this point on, the tragedy hastens.  There is the struggle once more with the sirens, and amid Wolfram’s touching appeals and Tannhaeuser’s exclamations