Where is the cry of
thought?
Faust, a Tragedy by Goethe
Thou must! and though the price were life--were heaven!
[_He seizes the book and pronounces mysteriously the sign of the spirit.
A ruddy flame darts out, the spirit appears in the flame. _]
_Spirit_. Who calls upon me?
_Faust. [Turning away. ]_ Horrid sight!
_Spirit_. Long have I felt the mighty action,
Upon my sphere, of thy attraction,
And now--
_Faust_. Away, intolerable sprite!
_Spirit_. Thou breath'st a panting supplication
To hear my voice, my face to see;
Thy mighty prayer prevails on me,
I come! --what miserable agitation
Seizes this demigod!
Where is the cry of thought?
Where is the breast? that in itself a world begot,
And bore and cherished, that with joy did tremble
And fondly dream us spirits to resemble.
Where art thou, Faust? whose voice rang through my ear,
Whose mighty yearning drew me from my sphere?
Is this thing thou? that, blasted by my breath,
Through all life's windings shuddereth,
A shrinking, cringing, writhing worm!
_Faust_. Thee, flame-born creature, shall I fear?
'Tis I, 'tis Faust, behold thy peer!
_Spirit_. In life's tide currents, in action's storm,
Up and down, like a wave,
Like the wind I sweep!
Cradle and grave--
A limitless deep---
An endless weaving
To and fro,
A restless heaving
Of life and glow,--
So shape I, on Destiny's thundering loom,
The Godhead's live garment, eternal in bloom.
_Faust_. Spirit that sweep'st the world from end to end,
How near, this hour, I feel myself to thee!
_Spirit_.
