The First Part of the Tragedy of Faust (1898)

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

The First Part of the Tragedy of Faust (1898)
Format
Hardback
Publisher
Kessinger Publishing
Country
United States
Published
10 September 2010
Pages
308
ISBN
9781167287794

The First Part of the Tragedy of Faust (1898)

Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

Purchase of this book includes free trial access to www.million-books.com where you can read more than a million books for free. This is an OCR edition with typos. Excerpt from book: In a high-vaulted, narrow, Gothic Chamber, Faust restless, seated at his desk. Faust. I ‘ve now studied, alas, Philosophy, Law’s mystery, and Medicine, And, to my grief, Theology, With eager effort truth to win? And here, poor fool, with all my lore, I ’m just as wise as I was before ! Master, ay, Doctor I ’m styled, God wot! And for near ten years it hath been my lot All up and down, and in and out, To lead my scholars by the snout? And that we can know nothing I now discern ! My heart to cinders it doth burn. True, I ’m wiser than those airy creatures, Doctors and Masters, Scribes and Preachers; I am not troubled with scruple or cavil, Little I reck of hell or devil? But then of all joy I am bereft; No dream that I know aught special is left, No dream that as teacher I could find Aught that would better and bless mankind ! Then I have neither gold nor land, No place of honour or command. By the merest hound would such life be spurned ! Therefore to Magic I have turned, If perchance, by the mouth of Spirit shown, Many a mystery might be known? That no more with bitter sweat aflow I needs must say what I do not know? That I may discern what inner force Holds the world together in its course, View germ and productive power displayed, And cease in words alone to trade ! Would for the last time thou didst shine, Full Moon, upon this woe of mine ! How oft I ’ve watched the midnight skies From this lone desk to see thee rise, Till o'er my books and papers thou, Sad friend, didst smile on me, as now ! Ah, that I could on mountain height Disport in thy delicious light, Round mountain cave with spirits shimm;, Glide o'er the meadows in thy glimmer, Shake off this sickness of the soul, Bathe in thy freshness, and be whole …

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