In this dark kitchen evermore he tried,
Watching for the great moment's birth that might
Antagonistic elements unite.
There in the gentle bath a Lion Red, 1440
Bold wooer he was to the Lily wed;
And both were, while the furnace fire raged bright;
Hurried in torture on from bed to bed.
If in the glass was given us to behold
The Young Queen rise in colours manifold,
Here was the medicine-the patients died.
None asked "Who took it and remained alive?"
-Thus in these mountains-in these valleys wide,
Our cure was than the plague a plague more fierce.
To thousands have I given the poison-they 145
Have withered-they are dead-and I survive
To hear praise lavished on their murderers.
Wagner. How can this be so painful? What can men Do more than in their practice still obey
The precepts of the science of their day?
What you have from your father heard was then
Heard in the docile spirit of belief.
You in your day extend the limit-line
Of science; in due time your son will take
His place—and for himself discoveries make 460
Greater than thine, perhaps yet but for thine
Impossible. If so then, why this grief?
Faust. Happy who still hath hope to rise above
This sea of error; strange that we in vain
Seek knowledge each day needs: the knowledge of
What never can avail us we attain.
But with such musings let us sadden not
This sweet hour! see, where, in the sunset, gleam
The village huts with green trees smiling round
Each cottage in its own small garden plot. 1470
But the Sun sinks-day dies, and it would seem
With day the Sun. But still doth he survive,
Still speeds he on with life-diffusing beam—
Oh, that no wing uplifts me from the ground,
Nearer and nearer after him to strive !
Then should I the reposing world behold
Still in this everlasting evening glow.
The hill-tops kindling all-the vales at rest-
The silver brooklet in its silent flow
To where the yellow splendour of the West/48/0
On the far river lies in trembling gold.
In vain the rugged mountain rears his breast,
With darkening cliff and cave to bar my way,
Onward in heaven, still onward is my flight,
And now wide ocean, with each fervid bay,
In sudden brightness breaks upon my sight,
Till sinking seems at last the god of day.
Then the new instinct wakens, and I breathe
Heaven still-still drink of his undying light.
Before me day-behind me is the night-1490
Above me heaven-and the wide wave beneath,
A glorious dream-illusion brief and bright—
For while I yet am dreaming he is gone.
Alas! from its captivity of earth,
The body hath no wing whereon to rise,
And with the winged spirit voyage on:
And yet will every one of human birth
The feeling in our nature recognize,
That for a moment with a sense of wings
Uplifts us, bears us onward and away, 1500
When high above, in blue space lost, his lay
Thrilling the skylark sings.
When over piny headlands, savage steeps,
Outspread the eagle sweeps.
And over moorlands, over main,
Homeward, homeward strives the crane.
Wagner. I, too, of reverie oft have had my moods, But impulse such as this they never bring. The eye soon has enough of fields and woods; I never had a wish for a bird's wing- 1510 Far other are the thinking man's delights, From book to book, from leaf to leaf they lead, And bright and cheerful are his winter nights. Life, happy life, warms every limb-Unroll,
At such charmed hour, some precious parchment scroll, All heaven descends upon you as you read.
Faust. You feel but the one impulse now-oh learn Never to know the other! in my breast
Alas! two souls dwell-all there is unrest;
Each with the other strives for mastery, 20
Each from the other struggles to be free.
One to the fleshly joys the coarse earth yields,
With clumsy tendrils clings, and one would rise
In native power and vindicate the fields,
Its own by birthright-its ancestral skies.
Oh! if indeed Spirits be in the air,
Moving 'twixt heaven and earth with lordly wings,
Come from your golden "incense-breathing" sphere,
Waft me to new and varied life away.
Oh! had I but a magic cloak to bear/530
At will to far off lands the wanderer,
How little would I prize the rich array
Of princes, and the purple pomp of kings!
Wagner. Call not the well-known army.
air,
A living stream, the middle space they fill,
And danger manifold for man prepare,
For ever active in the work of ill.
From all sides pour they on us-from the north,
With piercing fangs, with arrow-pointed tongues,
And from the sunrise region speed they forth, 15 40
In the dry wind to feast upon the lungs.
If from the desolate parched wilderness
The midday send them out with fervid glow,
To heap fresh fire upon the burning brain,
A cloudy vapour from the west they flow,
Descend in what would seem refreshing rain,
Then in fierce torrents down on thee they press,
And deluge garden, meadow-field, and plain.
Ready for evil with delight they hear,
They lurk and listen-gladly they obey 1550
Man's invitation-gladly they betray
Such summoner-in mischief they rejoice,
Ambassadors from heaven itself appear,
And utter falsehoods with an angel's voice.
But let's away-the air grows chill-the dew
Is falling-and the dusk of night has come.
Towards night we first have the true feel of home.
What keeps you standing there ?-Why that intent
Stare-why that look of such astonishment ?
What do you see that fastens thus on you ?
Faust. Do you see that black dog, where through the green blades
Of the soft springing corn, and the old stubble,
He runs, just glancing by them for a moment?
Wagner. I've seen him this while past, but thought not of him
But a poor fool of a poodle, puzzling out
His master's track whom I suppose he has lost.
Faust. Do you observe how in wide serpent circles He courses round us? nearer and yet nearer 1570 Each turn, and if my eyes do not deceive me, Sparkles of fire whirl where his foot hath touched. Wagner. I can see nothing more than a black dog; It may be some deception of your eyes.
Faust. Methinks he draws light magic threads around us, Hereafter to entangle and ensnare!
Wagner. In doubt and fear the poodle's leaping round us, Seeing two strangers in his master's stead.
Faust. The circle, see, how much more narrow 'tis,He's very near us!
Wagner.
'Tis a dog, you see,
And not a spirit; see, he snarls at strangers,
Shies, lies upon his belly, wags his tail,
We'll bring him home with us.
If you stand, he stands up and waits for you,-
Speak to him, and he straight leaps up upon you,-
Leave something after you, no doubt he'll bring it,
Or plunge into the water for your stick.
Faust. You're right. I see no traces of the Spirit
In him—
1590
Wagner. A dog, well tutored, learns the art
To win upon a good man's heart;
Wise men grow fond of them—and see,
Our friend already follows thee-
Soon shall we see the happy creature,
Prime favourite, round the doctor skip :
With every student for his teacher,
How can we doubt his scholarship?
[They enter the city-gate
Enter FAUST, with the Dog
Faust. The fields we roamed through with delight
Are hidden now in the deep night:
Within us felt the thrilling hour,
Awakes man's better soul to power:
Hushed the desires of the wild will,
And action's stormy breath is still-
Love stirs around us and abroad,
The love of Man, the love of God.
Rest, poodle, rest-lie down in quiet!
Why runs he up and down the floor?
What can it be he looks so shy at,
Smelling and snuffling at the door?
Pleasant wert thou in our mountain ramble,
Didst make us merry with trick and gambol,
Go to sleep on the cushion-a soft snug nest-
Take thy ease, in thine inn, like a welcome guest.
When in our narrow cell each night,
The lone lamp sheds its friendly light,
Then from the bosom doubt and fear
Pass off like clouds, and leave it clear-
Then reason re-assumes her reign,
And hope begins to bloom again, / 20
And in the hush of outward strife,
We seem to hear the streams of life.
And seek, alas !-in vain essay
Its hidden fountain far away.
Cease dog, to growl! the beastly howl of the hound
But ill accords with the pure breathing of
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