Loving hearts longing,
Sighing to greet them.
O'er field and o'er flower,
On bank and in bower,

The folds of their bright robes
In breezy air streaming,
Where loving ones living

In love's thoughtful dreaming,
Their fond hearts are giving
For ever away.

Bower on bower,

Tendril and flower;
Clustering grapes,

The vine's purple treasure,
Have fallen in the wine-vat,
And bleed in its pressure

Foaming and steaming, the new wine is streaming,

Over agate and amethyst,

Rolls from its fountain,
Leaving behind it

Meadow and mountain,

And the hill-slopes smile greener, far down where it breaks

Into billowy streamlets, or lingers in lakes.

And the winged throng, drinking deep of delight
From the rivers of joy, are pursuing their flight.
Onward and onward,

Wings steering sun-ward,

Where the bright islands, with magical motion,
Stir with the waves of the stirring ocean.
Where we hear 'em shout in chorus,

Or see 'em dance on lawns before us,
As over land or over waters
Chance the idle parties scatters.
Some upon the far hills gleaming,
Some along the bright lakes streaming,
Some their forms in air suspending,
Float in circles never-ending.
The one spirit of enjoyment,

Aim, and impulse, and employment;
All would breathe in the far distance
Life, free life of full existence

With the gracious stars above them,
Smiling down to say they love them.

He sleeps,

MEPHISTOPHELES.

thanks to my little favourites Why ye have fairly sung away his wits, And so he thought the devil to catch and keep! Well, well, I am a concert in your debt Still cloud with dreams his unsuspecting sleep, Antic and wild! still in illusion steep hover round and round him yet,

His fancy!

Haply dreaming, that I am

Prisoner of the pentagram!

Tooth of rat . gets rid of that... Gnawing, sawing, bit by bit,

Till there be no trace of it;

Little need of conjuring,
Rats to such a place to bring;
One is rustling in the wall,

He will hear my whispered call —

The master of the Mice and Rats,
Flies and Frogs, and Bugs and Bats,
Sends his summons to appear;

Forth! and gnaw the threshold here;-
He hath spilt the fragrant oil,

Till it vanish tooth must toil:

Sir Rat hath heard me
To the task that soon is done;
Yonder angle, 'tis, confines

Your master

see him run

gnaw the meeting-lines:

Now the corner, near the door,

All is done in one bite more.

The prisoner and the pentagram are gone, Dream, FAUST, until we meet again, dream on!

FAUST (awaking).

Am I again deceived? and must I deem

These gorgeous images, but phantoms shaped
In the delusion of a lying dream?

And so there was no devil at all, 'twould seem
And it was but a poodle that escaped!

We soon shall be the best friends in the world.

From your mind to scatter wholly

The mists of peevish melancholy,

Hither come I now, and bear

Of a young lord the noble air,

[Enters.

And mask me in his character;
My dress is splendid, you behold,
Blazing with the ruddy gold,

With my stiff silken mantle's pride,

And the long sword hanging by my side,
And o'er my cap the cock's proud feather
I'm a fine fellow altogether.

And now, my friend, without delay,
Equip yourself in like array,

That, light and free, you thus may see,

Life's many pleasures what they be!

In every

FAUST.

dress alike I can but feel

Life the same torture, earth the self-same prison;
For your light pleasures I am all too old,

Too young to have the sting of passion dead,

The world what can it give? "Refrain, refrain!"
This is the everlasting song - the chime
Perpetually jingling in all ears,

And with hoarse accents every hour repeats it.
Each morn, with a dull sense of something dreadful,
I wake, and from my bitter heart could weep
To see another day, which, in its course,

Will not fulfil one wish of mine

not one!

The teasing crowd of small anxieties,
That each day brings, have frittered into dust
All joy, until the very hope of joy

Is something, that the heart has ceased to feel;
And life's poor masquerade- vapid and wayward,