Читать книгу The Greatest German Classics (Vol. 1-14) - Various - Страница 910

FAUST (alone)

Spirit sublime! Thou gav'st me, gav'st me all

For which I prayed! Not vainly hast thou turn'd

To me thy countenance in flaming fire:

Gavest me glorious nature for my realm,

And also power to feel her and enjoy;

Not merely with a cold and wondering glance,

Thou dost permit me in her depths profound,

As in the bosom of a friend to gaze.

Before me thou dost lead her living tribes,

And dost in silent grove, in air and stream

Teach me to know my kindred. And when roars

The howling storm-blast through the groaning wood,

Wrenching the giant pine, which in its fall

Crashing sweeps down its neighbor trunks and boughs,

While hollow thunder from the hill resounds:

Then thou dost lead me to some shelter'd cave,

Dost there reveal me to myself, and show

Of my own bosom the mysterious depths.

And when with soothing beam, the moon's pale orb

Full in my view climbs up the pathless sky,

From crag and dewy grove, the silvery forms

Of by-gone ages hover, and assuage

The joy austere of contemplative thought.

Oh, that naught perfect is assign'd to man,

I feel, alas! With this exalted joy,

Which lifts me near, and nearer to the gods,

Thou gav'st me this companion, unto whom

I needs must cling, though cold and insolent,

He still degrades me to myself, and turns

Thy glorious gifts to nothing, with a breath.

He in my bosom with malicious zeal

For that fair image fans a raging fire;

From craving to enjoyment thus I reel,

And in enjoyment languish for desire.

[MEPHISTOPHELES enters.]