From the dirty bog we come,
Whence we've just arisen:
Soon in the dance here, quite at home,
As gay young _sparks_ we'll glisten.
Whence we've just arisen:
Soon in the dance here, quite at home,
As gay young _sparks_ we'll glisten.
Faust, a Tragedy by Goethe
_Supernaturalist_. I'm overjoyed at being here,
And even among these rude ones;
For if bad spirits are, 'tis clear,
There also must be good ones.
_Skeptic_. Where'er they spy the flame they roam,
And think rich stores to rifle,
Here such as I are quite at home,
For _Zweifel_ rhymes with _Teufel_. [45]
_Leader of the music_. Grass-hid cricket, frogs in trees,
You cursed dilettanti!
Fly-snouts and gnats'-noses, peace!
Musicians you, right jaunty!
_The Clever ones_. Sans-souci we call this band
Of merry ones that skip it;
Unable on our feet to stand,
Upon our heads we trip it.
_The Bunglers_. Time was, we caught our tit-bits, too,
God help us now! that's done with!
We've danced our leathers entirely through,
And have only bare soles to run with.
_Jack-o'lanterns_.
From the dirty bog we come,
Whence we've just arisen:
Soon in the dance here, quite at home,
As gay young _sparks_ we'll glisten.
_Shooting star_. Trailing from the sky I shot,
Not a star there missed me:
Crooked up in this grassy spot,
Who to my legs will assist me?
_The solid men_. Room there! room there! clear the ground!
Grass-blades well may fall so;
Spirits are we, but 'tis found
They have plump limbs also.
_Puck_. Heavy men! do not, I say,
Like elephants' calves go stumping:
Let the plumpest one to-day
Be Puck, the ever-jumping.
_Ariel_. If the spirit gave, indeed,
If nature gave you, pinions,
Follow up my airy lead
To the rose-dominions!
_Orchestra_ [_pianissimo_]. Gauzy mist and fleecy cloud
Sun and wind have banished.
Foliage rustles, reeds pipe loud,
All the show has vanished.
