field which he had sown, and
often lingered there wondering what kind of grain would be produced,
he saw a misty form hover above the field, with hands outstretched
as if in blessing. At last the field blossomed, and countless little
blue flowers opened their calyxes to the golden sun. When the flowers
had withered and the seed was ripe, Holda came once more to teach the
peasant and his wife how to harvest the flax--for such it was--and from
it to spin, weave, and bleach linen. As the people of the neighbourhood
willingly purchased both linen and flax-seed, the peasant and his
wife soon grew very rich indeed, and while he ploughed, sowed, and
harvested, she spun, wove, and bleached the linen. The man lived to
a good old age, and saw his grandchildren and great-grandchildren
grow up around him. All this time his carefully treasured bouquet
had remained fresh as when he first brought it home, but one day he
saw that during the night the flowers had drooped and were dying.

Knowing what this portended, and that he too must die, the peasant
climbed the mountain once more to the glacier, and found again the
doorway for which he had often vainly searched. He entered the icy
portal, and was never seen or heard of again, for, according to the
legend, the goddess took him under her care, and bade him live in
her cave, where his every wish was gratified.

Tannhaeuser

According to a mediaeval tradition, Holda dwelt in a cave in the
Hoerselberg, in Thuringia, where she was known as Frau Venus, and
was considered as an enchantress who lured mortals into her realm,
where she detained them for ever, steeping their senses in all
manner of sensual pleasures. The most famous of her victims was
Tannhaeuser, who, after he had lived under her spell for a season,
experienced a revulsion of feeling which loosened her bonds over his
spirit and induced anxious thoughts concerning his soul. He escaped
from her power and hastened to Rome to confess his sins and seek
absolution. But when the Pope heard of his association with one of
the pagan goddesses whom the priests taught were nothing but demons,
he declared that the knight could no more hope for pardon than to
see his staff bear buds and bloom.

"Hast thou within the nets of Satan lain?
Hast thou thy soul to her perdition pledged?
Hast thou thy lip to Hell's Enchantress lent,
To drain damnation from her reeking cup?
Then know that sooner from the withered sta