The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 01 eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 477 pages of information about The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 01.

VOICE (from within, dying away)

Henry!  Henry!





FAUST, reclining upon flowery turf, restless, seeking sleep


Circle of spirits, hovering, flit around;—­Graceful, tiny forms.


Song, accompanied by AEolian 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.]

Project Gutenberg
The German Classics of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, Volume 01 from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
Follow Us on Facebook