Oh that my steps might wander free
The mountain-tops beneath thy light!
Or with the Spirit-band might flee
Among the hollows of their height !
Could flit at will o'er all the fields

That thou dost gladden with thy view;
Freed from the loathing knowledge yields,
Could bathe, refreshen’d, in thy dew!

Ah! am I in this prison still?

Yet penn'd between these narrow walls? This cursed hole, whose vapours chill,

Where mouldiness around me falls?
In which the very light of heaven
All mournfully upon me looks,
Dim through the painted panes 'tis given,
More stinted by this heap of books!

The worm-gnawn beams are thick with dust; paper, dark with smoky crust

The

To the arch'd ceiling reaching high,
Adds to the vault's obscurity;
Glasses and boxes round me piled,

With instruments of study cramm'd

Old family lumber, long exiled

From light and use, among them jamm'd!

This is thy world! alas for thee,

That such a den thy world must be !

And do I ask myself why still

So shrinks my heart within my breast?

Why, by a vague and aching chill,

Each stirring impulse is represt? For nature's rich vitality

Which God has formed us to behold,
Here nought but skeletons I see
Of man and beast, surrounding me,

Dead bones, mix'd up with smoke and mould !

Up! up! into the boundless land !

Is not this book of secret lore,
Inscribed by Nostradamus' hand,
Sufficient guide wherewith to soar?

Thou 'lt know the paths on which the planets roll;
And if its knowledge it from nature seeketh,
There shall a power rise to meet thy soul,

Even as one spirit to another speaketh ;
But vainly may dry thought expound
These holy signs, and make them clear!
Ye spirits who are hovering round,
Come! answer me, if now ye hear!

[He opens the volume and sees the sign of the Macrocosm.

Ha! at this sight, what sudden raptures thrill
Throughout my soul, and all my senses fill !
I feel a youthful, holy life again

Glow with enjoyment, through each nerve and vein.
Was it a God whose power imprest

This sign, whose gentle influence stills
The storm that raged within my breast,
That my poor heart with gladness fills;
And, with an all-mysterious power, reveals
The secrets Nature 'neath her veil conceals?
Am I a God? All grows so light to me!
Yes! in these pure, clear outlines I can see,
Creative Nature, as she works,

Open before my soul display'd;

Now first I know what meaning lurks

In what the ancient Sage hath said!
"No bar the spirit-world hath ever borne !
It is thy thought is shut-thy heart is dead:
Up! scholar, bathe, unwearied, and unworn,
Thine earthly breast in morning's beams of red !"

[He remains gazing on the sign.

How all things in a whole, here weave and blend,
One in the other working, moving, living!
Lo! how the heavenly powers rise, descend,
The golden vessels to each other giving!
From their far heaven, through earth beneath
Their all-pervading effluence sinks,

And from their soft vibrations, breathe
The blessings, earth with rapture drinks ;
Each atom, by their touch is thrill'd
And waken'd into melody,
Till universal space is fill'd,
With universal harmony!

Glorious to gaze on! Ah, that there
It nothing more than show should be!
Infinite Nature! where, oh where,
May I possess and seize on thee?

Where are thy breasts—the founts of life and birth,
On which hang all in heaven and on earth?
To which the blighted heart itself doth strain,—
They gush, they flow, and must I pine in vain!

[He reluctantly turns over the leaves of the volume, and sees the
sign of the Microcosm.

How differently I feel before this sign!

Thou, Spirit of the Earth, art to me nigher,

My faculties I feel already higher,

Already do I glow like new-press'd wine!

Courage I feel amid the world to go,

Το prove its pleasures, or to bear its woe,

To brave the storms that may around me dash,
And tremble not amid the shipwreck's crash!
Clouds gather o'er, and dim my sight,
The midnight moon withdraws her light,
My lamp emits a dying ray,

And earth-born vapours rise and stray !
Beams, glowing red,

From the dark vault that o'er me bends,
A chilling, creeping fear descends;
Spirit! compell'd to me by prayer,
I feel that thou art hovering there,
Unveil thyself, thyself reveal!
Ha! what can thus my bosom tear?
With new sensations-do I feel
All my thoughts in tumult reel !

Yes! all my soul surrender'd is to thee,

Thou must, then! though my life the price should be!

[He seizes the book, and repeats the sign of the SPIRIT; a red flame shoots up, the SPIRIT of the EARTH appears in the flame.

Spirit. Who calls!

Faust.

Spirit.

Oh! fearful vision!

I am here!

Drawn by thy constant seeking at my sphere!
And now-

Faust. Ah, woe! thy sight I cannot bear!
Spirit. To hear my voice, my form to see,
It was thy deeply-breathed demand,

Thy invocation works on me

At thy command,

I come! but lo! a tremor seizes thee;

Art thou a demigod, and dost thou fear?
Where is the soul that call'd me thus ? and where
The breast that in itself a world created?
That swell'd with ecstasy our life to share,
That sought with us-with spirits to be mated?
Where art thou, FAUST, whose voice to me hath rung?
Who unto me with all his strength hath clung?
Is 't THOU, whom thus my breath with fear can fill?
Through all thy depths of life, in tremblings flung,
A timid, writhing reptile still!

Faust. Thou form of flame! and shall I yield to thee? 'Tis I-'tis FAUST, thine equal! I am he!

Spirit. In the swelling flood of life,

In the storm of action going,
Up and down, in endless strife,
Here and there for ever flowing,
Mine is birth and mine the grave,
An Ocean of unending wave!
Change on changes I assume

In life that glows in star and clod,
So work I at Time's rushing loom
And weave the living robe of GOD!

Faust. Spirit! that through all life thy course doth take, Creative power! how near I feel to thee!

Spirit. Thou 'rt equal to the spirit thou canst make By thine own mind's conception—not to me!

[The SPIRIT disappears.

Faust. Not thee! not thee! then unto whom?

I, in God's image formed, yet thus,

May not to equal thee presume!

Oh, death! I know-it is my Famulus !

Thus perishes my fairest bliss,

And from my vision I must wake!

[A knocking heard.