The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 01 · Chapter 70Faust—Selections from Part II (1832)
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FAUST, reclining upon flowery turf, restless, seeking sleep
Circle of spirits, hovering, flit around;—Graceful, tiny forms.
Song, accompanied by Æolian harps When, in vernal showers descending, Blossoms gently veil the earth, When the fields' green wealth, up-tending, Gleams on all of mortal birth; Tiny elves, where help availeth, Large of heart, there fly apace; Pity they whom grief assaileth, Be he holy, be he base.
Ye round this head on airy wing careering, Attend, in noble Elfin guise appearing; Assuage the cruel strife that rends his heart, The burning shaft remove of keen remorse, From rankling horror cleanse his inmost part: Four are the pauses of the nightly course; Them, without rest, fill up with kindly art. And first his head upon cool pillow lay, Then bathe ye him in dew from Lethe's stream; His limbs, cramp-stiffen'd, will more freely play, If sleep-refreshed he wait morn's wakening beam.
Perform the noblest Elfin-rite, Restore ye him to the holy light!
CHORUS (singly, two or more, alternately and together)
Softly when warm gales are stealing O'er the green-environed ground, Twilight sheddeth all-concealing Mists and balmy odors round: Whispers low sweet peace to mortals, Rocks the heart to childlike rest, And of day-light shuts the portals To these eyes, with care oppressed. Night hath now descended darkling, Holy star is linked to star; Sovereign fires, or faintly sparkling, Glitter near and shine afar; Glitter here lake-mirror'd, yonder Shine adown the clear night sky; Sealing bliss of perfect slumber, Reigns the moon's full majesty.
Now the hours are cancelled; sorrow, Happiness, have passed away: Whole thou shalt be on the morrow! Feel it! Trust the new-born day! Swell the hills, green grow the valleys, In the dusk ere breaks the morn; And in silvery wavelets dallies, With the wind, the ripening corn.
Cherish hope, let naught appall thee! Mark the East, with splendor dyed! Slight the fetters that enthrall thee; Fling the shell of sleep aside! Gird thee for the high endeavor; Shun the crowd's ignoble ease! Fails the noble spirit never, Wise to think, and prompt to seize.
[A tremendous tumult announces the uprising of the Sun.]
Hark, the horal tempest nears, Sounding but for spirit ears, Lo! the new-born day appears; Clang the rocky portals, climb Phoebus' wheels with thund'rous chime: Breaks with tuneful noise the light! Blare of trumpet, clarion sounding, Eye-sight dazing, ear astounding! Hear not the unheard; take flight! Into petaled blossoms glide Deeper, deeper, still to bide, In the clefts, 'neath thickets! ye, If it strike you, deaf will be.
Life's pulses reawakened freshly bound, The mild ethereal twilight fain to greet. Thou, Earth, this night wast also constant found, And, newly-quickened, breathing at my feet, Beginnest now to gird me with delight; A strong resolve dost rouse, with noble heat Aye to press on to being's sovereign height. The world in glimmering dawn still folded lies; With thousand-voicèd life the woods resound; Mist-wreaths the valley shroud; yet from the skies Sinks heaven's clear radiance to the depths profound; And bough and branch from dewy chasms rise, Where they had drooped erewhile in slumber furled; Earth is enamelled with unnumber'd dyes, Leaflet and flower with dew-drops are impearled; Around me everywhere is paradise.
Gaze now aloft! Each mountain's giant height The solemn hour announces, herald-wise; They early may enjoy the eternal light, To us below which later finds its way. Now are the Alpine slopes and valleys dight With the clear radiance of the new-born day, Which, downward, step by step, steals on apace.—It blazes forth,—and, blinded by the ray, With aching eyes, alas! I veil my face. So when a hope, the heart hath long held fast, Trustful, still striving toward its highest goal, Fulfilment's portals open finds at last;—Sudden from those eternal depths doth roll An over-powering flame;—we stand aghast! The torch of life to kindle we were fain;—A fire-sea,—what a fire!—doth round us close; Love is it? Is it hate? with joy and pain, In alternation vast, that round us glows? So that to earth we turn our wistful gaze, In childhood's veil to shroud us once again!
So let the sun behind me pour its rays! The cataract, through rocky cleft that roars, I view, with growing rapture and amaze. From fall to fall, with eddying shock, it pours, In thousand torrents to the depths below, Aloft in air up-tossing showers of spray. But see, in splendor bursting from the storm, Arches itself the many-colored bow, And ever-changeful, yet continuous form, Now drawn distinctly, melting now away, Diffusing dewy coolness all around! Man's efforts there are glassed, his toil and strife; Reflect, more true the emblem will be found: This bright reflected glory pictures life!