by the nose, - and learn, That we in truth can nothing know! That in my heart

like fire doth burn. 'Tis true I've more cunning than all your dull tribe, Magister
and doctor, priest, parson, and scribe; Scruple or doubt comes not to enthrall

me, Neither can devil nor hell now appal me Hence also my heart must all
pleasure forego! I may not pretend, aught rightly to know, I may not pretend,

through teaching, to find A means to improve or convert mankind. Then I
have neither goods nor treasure, No worldly honour, rank, or pleasure; No

dog in such fashion would longer live! Therefore myself to magic I give, In
hope, through spirit - voice and might, Secrets now veiled to bring to light,

That I no more, with aching brow, Need speak of what I nothing know; That
I the force may recognise That binds creation's inmost energies; Her vital

powers, her embryo seeds survey, And fling the trade in empty words away.
O full - orb'd moon, did but thy rays Their last upon mine anguish gaze!

Beside this desk, at dead of night, Oft have I watched to hail thy light: Then,
pensive friend! o'er book and scroll, With soothing power, thy radiance stole!

In thy dear light, ah, might I climb, Freely, some mountain height sublime,
Round mountain caves with spirits ride, In thy mild haze o'er meadows glide,

And, purged from knowledge - fumes, renew My spirit, in thy healing dew!
Woe's me! still prison'd in the gloom Of this abhorr'd and musty room! Where

heaven's dear light itself doth pass, But dimly through the painted glass!
Hemmed in by volumes thick with dust, Worm - eaten, hid 'neath rust and

mould, And to the high vault's topmost bound, A smoke - stained paper
compassed round; With boxes round thee piled, and glass, And many a

useless instrument, With old ancestrallumber blent This is thy world! a world!
alas! And dost thou ask why heaves thy heart, With tighten'd pressure in thy

breast? Why the dull ache will not depart, By which thy life - pulse is
oppress'd? Instead of nature's living sphere, Created for mankind of old,

Brute skeletons surround thee here, And dead men's bones in smoke and
mould.

Up! Forth into the distant land! Is not this book of mystery By Nostradamus'
proper hand, An all - sufficient guide? Thou'lt see The courses of the stars

unroll'd; When nature doth her thoughts unfold To thee, thy soul shall rise, and
seek Communion high with her to hold, As spirit doth with spirit speak! Vain

by dull poring to divine The meaning of each hallow'd sign. Spirits! I feel you
hov'ring near; Make answer, if my voice ye hear!

(He opens the book and perceives the sign of the Macrocosmos.)
Ah! at this spectacle through every sense, What sudden ecstasy of joy is

flowing! I feel new rapture, hallow'd and intense, Through every nerve and
vein with ardour glowing. Was it a god who character'd this scroll, The tumult

in my spirit healing, O'er my sad heart with rapture stealing, And by a mystic
impulse, to my soul, The powers of nature all around revealing. Am I a God?

What light intense! In these pure symbols do I see, Nature exert her vital
energy. Now of the wise man's words I learn the sense;

"Unlock'd the spirit - world doth lie, Thy sense is shut, thy heart is dead! Up
scholar, lave, with courage high, Thine earthly breast in the morning - red!"

(He contemplates the sign.)
How all things live and work, and ever blending, Weave one vast whole from

Being's ample range! How powers celestial, rising and descending, Their
golden buckets ceaseless interchange! Their flight on rapture - breathing

pinions winging, From heaven to earth their genial influence bringing, Through
the wild sphere their chimes melodious ringing!

A wondrous show! but ah! a show alone! Where shall I grasp thee, infinite
nature, where? Ye breasts, ye fountains of all life, whereon Hang heaven and

earth, from which the withered heart For solace yearns, ye still impart Your
sweet and fostering tides - where are ye - where? Ye gush, and must I

languish in despair?
(He turns over the leaves of the book impatiently, and perceives the sigh of

the Earth - spirit.)
How all unlike the influence of this sign! Earth - spirit, thou to me art nigher,

E'en now my strength is rising higher, E'en now I glow as with new wine;
Courage I feel, abroad the world to dare, The woe of earth, the bliss of earth

to bear, With storms to wrestle, brave the lightning's glare, And mid the
crashing shipwreck not despair.

Clouds gather over me The moon conceals her light The lamp is quench'd
Vapours are rising - Quiv'ring round my head Flash the red beams - Down

from the vaulted roof A shuddering horror floats, And seizes me! I feel it,
spirit, prayer - compell'd, 'tis thou Art hovering near! Unveil thyself! Ha! How

my heart is riven now! Each sense, with eager palpitation, Is strain'd to catch
some new sensation! I feel my heart surrender'd unto thee! Thou must! Thou

must! Though life should be the fee!
(He seizes the book, and pronounces mysteriously the sign of the spirit. A

ruddy flame flashes up; the spirit appears in the flame.)
Spirit

Who calls me?
Faust (turning aside) Dreadful shape! Spirit

With might,
Thou hast compelled me to appear, Long hast been sucking at my sphere,

And now
Dr. Johann Faust: Dr. Johann Faust watching a magic disc in his study.

Engraving by Rembrant.]
Faust

Woe's me! I cannot bear thy sight!
Spirit

To see me thou dost breathe thine invocation, My voice to hear, to gaze upon
my brow; Me doth thy strong entreaty bow Lo! I am here! - What cowering

agitation Grasps thee, the demigod! Where's now the soul's deep cry? Where
is the breast, which in its depths a world conceiv'd And bore and cherished?

which, with ecstacy, To rank itself with us, the spirits, heaved? Where art
thou, Faust? whose voice I heard resound, Who towards me press'd with

energy profound? Art thou he? Thou, - who by my breath art blighted, Who,
in his spirit's depths affrighted, Trembles, a crush'd and writhing worm!

Faust
Shall I yield, thing of flame, to thee? Faust, and thine equal, I am he!

Spirit
In the currents of life, in action's storm, I float and I wave With billowy

motion! Birth and the grave A limitless ocean, A constant weaving With
change still rife, A restless heaving, A glowing life Thus time's whirring loom

unceasing I ply, And weave the life - garment of deity.
Faust

Thou, restless spirit, dost from end to end O'ersweep the world; how near I
feel to thee!

Spirit
Thou'rt like the spirit, thou dost comprehend, Not me!

(Vanishes.)
Faust (deeply moved)

Not thee? Whom then? I, Gods own image! And not rank with thee!
(A knock)

Oh death! I know it - 'tis my famulus My fairest fortune now escapes! That all
these visionary shapes A soulless groveller should banish thus!

(Wagner in his dressing gown and night - cap, a lamp in his hand. Faust turns
round reluctantly.)

Wagner
Pardon! I heard you here declaim; A Grecian tragedy you doubtless read?

Improvement in this art is now my aim, For now - a - days it much avails.
Indeed An actor, oft I've heard it said, as teacher, May give instruction to a

preacher.
Faust

Ay, if your priest should be an actor too, As not improbably may come to
pass.

Wagner
When in his study pent the whole year through, Man views the world, as

through an optic glass, On a chance holiday, and scarcely then, How by
persuasion can he govern men?

Faust
If feeling prompt not, if it doth not flow Fresh from the spirit's depths, with

strong control Swaying to rapture every listener's soul, Idle your toil; the
chase you may forego! Brood o'er your task! Together glue, Cook from

another's feast your own ragout, Still prosecute your paltry game, And fan
your ash - heaps into flame! Thus children's wonder you'll excite, And apes', if

such your appetite; But that which issues from the heart alone, Will bend the
hearts of others to your own.

Wagner
The speaker in delivery will find Success alone; I still am far behind.

Faust
A worthy object still pursue! Be not a hollow tinkling fool! Sound

understanding, judgment true, Find utterance without art or rule; And when in
earnest you are moved to speak, Then is it needful cunning words to seek?