Parsifal has overcome the gently babbling daughters Who'd distract him to desire; despite fleshly delight
That might lure the virgin youth, the temptation
To love their swelling breasts and gentle babble;
He has vanquished fair Womankind, of subtle heart,
Her tender arms outstretched and her throat pale;
From harrowing Hell, he now returns triumphant,
Bearing a heavy trophy in his boyish hands,
With the spear that pierced the Saviour's side!
He who healed the King shall be himself enthroned,
As priest-king and guardian of the sacred treasure.
In golden robe he worships that sign of grace,
The pure vessel in which shines the Holy Blood.
- And, o those children's voices singing in the dome!
