Читать книгу The Greatest German Classics (Vol. 1-14) - Various - Страница 1260

Nay! Heaven forbid! As nonsense we declare

The ancient procreative mode;

The tender point, life's spring, the gentle strength

That took and gave, that from within hath pressed,

And seized, intent itself to manifest,

The nearest first, the more remote at length—

This from its dignity is now dethron'd!

The brute indeed may take delight therein,

But man, by whom such mighty gifts are own'd,

Must have a purer, higher origin.

(He turns to the furnace)

It flashes, see!—Now may we trustful hold,

That if, of substances a hundred-fold,

Through mixture—for on mixture it depends—

The human substance duly we compose,

And then in a retort enclose,

And cohobate; in still repose

The work is perfected, our labor ends.

(Again turning to the furnace)

It forms! More clear the substance shows!

Stronger, more strong, conviction grows!

What Nature's mystery we once did style,

That now to test, our reason tries,

And what she organized erewhile,

We now are fain to crystallize.