No More Learning

his kiss.
My heart is heavy,
My peace is o'er,
I never--ah! never--
Shall find it more.
My bosom yearns
To behold him again.
Ah, could I find him
That best of men!
I'd tell him then
How I did miss him,
And kiss him
As much as I could,
Die on his kisses
I surely should!




MARTHA'S GARDEN.

MARGARET. FAUST.

_Margaret_. Promise me, Henry.

_Faust_. What I can.

_Margaret_. How is it now with thy religion, say?
I know thou art a dear good man,
But fear thy thoughts do not run much that way.

_Faust_. Leave that, my child! Enough, thou hast my heart;
For those I love with life I'd freely part;
I would not harm a soul, nor of its faith bereave it.

_Margaret_. That's wrong, there's one true faith--one must believe it?

_Faust_. Must one?

_Margaret_. Ah, could I influence thee, dearest!
The holy sacraments thou scarce reverest.

_Faust_. I honor them.

_Margaret_. But yet without desire.
Of mass and confession both thou'st long begun to tire.