Faust: A Tragedy, Volume 1

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Page 220 - Soft yielding minds to Water glide away, And sip, with Nymphs, their elemental Tea. The graver Prude sinks downward to a Gnome, In search of mischief still on Earth to roam. The light Coquettes in Sylphs aloft repair, And sport and flutter in the fields of Air.
Page 40 - Two souls, alas ! reside within my breast, And each withdraws from, and repels, its brother. One with tenacious organs holds in love And clinging lust the world in its embraces ; The other strongly sweeps, this dust above, Into the high ancestral spaces.
Page 269 - Coffins stood round, like open presses; That shaw'd the dead in their last dresses; And by some devilish...
Page 227 - When I say, My bed shall comfort me, My couch shall ease my complaint; Then thou scarest me with dreams, And terrifiest me through visions : So that my soul chooseth strangling, And death rather than my life.
Page 259 - To-morrow is Saint Valentine's day, All in' the morning betime, And I a maid at your window, To be your Valentine...
Page 308 - What will be, shall be? Divinity, adieu! These metaphysics of magicians And necromantic books are heavenly : Lines, circles, scenes, letters, and characters: Ay, these are those that Faustus most desires.
Page 217 - The air is not so full of flies in summer, as it is at all times of invisible devils...
Page 200 - To carry on the feelings of childhood into the powers of manhood, to combine the child's sense of wonder and novelty wiih the appearances which every day for perhaps forty years has rendered familiar, With sun and moon and stars throughout the year, And man and woman . this is the character and privilege of genius, and one of the marks which distinguish genius from talent.
Page 306 - In heavenly matters of theology; Till swollen with cunning, of a self-conceit, His waxen wings did mount above his reach, And, melting, heavens conspired his overthrow; For, falling to a devilish exercise, And glutted now with learning's golden gifts, He surfeits upon cursed necromancy.
Page 60 - When on an idler's bed I stretch myself in quiet, There let, at once, my record end ! Canst thou with lying flattery rule me, Until, self-pleased, myself I see, — Canst thou with rich enjoyment fool me, Let that day be the last for me ! The bet I offer. MEPHISTOPHELES. Done! FAUST. And heartily I When thus I hail the Moment flying: "Ah, still delay — thou art so fair...

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