©Biblioteca Nacional de Colombia

FAUST'S STUDY
113
And the old music, like a spell recalling
lfaded remembrances ;-if in the trance
Ali that remained of my boy's heart was captive
To the charmed echo of more happy days­
Rnow I not-feel I not it was illusion?
We are but what the senses make of us,
And this and all illusion do I curse,
Ali that beguiles us, man or boy-that winds
Over the heart its nets, and chains us here
In thraldom down or voluntary trance,
This magic jugglery, that fools the soul­
These obscure powers that cloud and flatter it!
Oh, cursed first of all be the rugh thoughts
That man conceives of his own attributes!
;'\nd cursed be the shadowy appearances,
The false delusive images of things
l'hat slave and mock the senses! cursed be
The hypocrite dreams that soothe us when we think
Of fame-of deathless and enduring names!
Cursed be all that, in self-flattery,
We call our own,-wife, child, and sla'\'e, and plough;­
Curse upon Mammon, when with luring gold
lie stirs our souls to hardy deeds, or when
lie smoothes the couch of indolent repose;
A curse upon the sweet grape's balmy juice,
And the passionate joys of love, man's highest joys­
And cursed be all hope and all beJief;
4nd cursed, more than ali, man's tame endurance.
Song of invisible SPffiITS.
Woe, woe! thou hast destroyed it!
This beautiful world:
~Iighty his hand, who dealt
The blow thro' Nature felt.
Earth withers:
A demigod cursed it-
~ shock from the Spirit that shaped and enjoyed it;
Q. blight from the bosom that nUl'sed it;
l''\US'l
©Biblioteca Nacional de Colombia