Here is a song, which if you
sometimes
sing,
'Twill stir up in your heart a special fire.
'Twill stir up in your heart a special fire.
Faust, a Tragedy by Goethe
[_The_ WITCH, _with many ceremonies, pours the drink into a cup;
as she puts it to_ FAUST'S _lips, there rises a light flame_. ]
_Mephistopheles_. Down with it! Gulp it down! 'Twill prove
All that thy heart's wild wants desire.
Thou, with the devil, hand and glove,[25]
And yet wilt be afraid of fire?
[_The_ WITCH _breaks the circle_; FAUST _steps out_. ]
_Mephistopheles_. Now briskly forth! No rest for thee!
_The witch_. Much comfort may the drink afford you!
_Mephistopheles [to the witch_]. And any favor you may ask of me,
I'll gladly on Walpurgis' night accord you.
_The witch_.
Here is a song, which if you sometimes sing,
'Twill stir up in your heart a special fire.
_Mephistopheles [to Faust_]. Only make haste; and even shouldst thou tire,
Still follow me; one must perspire,
That it may set his nerves all quivering.
I'll teach thee by and bye to prize a noble leisure,
And soon, too, shalt thou feel with hearty pleasure,
How busy Cupid stirs, and shakes his nimble wing.
_Faust_. But first one look in yonder glass, I pray thee!
Such beauty I no more may find!
_Mephistopheles_. Nay! in the flesh thine eyes shall soon display thee
The model of all woman-kind.
[_Softly_. ]
Soon will, when once this drink shall heat thee,
In every girl a Helen meet thee!
A STREET.
FAUST. MARGARET [_passing over_].
_Faust_.
