This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1880 edition. Excerpt: ...break my peace once more? come in! Mephistopheles. 'Tis I! Faust. Come in! Mephistopheles. Thou must repeat it thrice. Faust. Come in. Mephistopheles. Thus with good omen we begin; I come to give you good advice, --, And hope we'll understand each other.!'rf The idle fancies to expel, I That in your ...
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This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can usually download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1880 edition. Excerpt: ...break my peace once more? come in! Mephistopheles. 'Tis I! Faust. Come in! Mephistopheles. Thou must repeat it thrice. Faust. Come in. Mephistopheles. Thus with good omen we begin; I come to give you good advice, --, And hope we'll understand each other.!'rf The idle fancies to expel, I That in your brain make such a pother At your service behold me here, Of noble blood, a cavalier, A gallant youth rigged out with grace, -7 In scarlet coat with golden lace, A short silk mantle, and a bonnet, With a gay cock's feather on it, And at my side a long sharp sword. Now listen to a well-meant word; ft Do thou the like, and follow me, All unembarrassed thus and free, To mingle in the busy scenes Of life, and know what living means. _J Faust. Still must I suffer, clothe me as you may, This narrow earthly life's incumbrancy; Too old I am to be content with play, Too young from every longing to be free. What can the world hold forth for me to Abstain, it saith, and still it saith, Abstain! This is the burden of the song That in our ears eternal rings, Life's dreary litany lean and long, That each dull moment hoarsely sings. With terror wake I in the morn from sleep, And bitter tears might often weep, To see the day, when its dull course is run, That brings to fruit not one small wish, --not one! That, with capricious criticising, Each taste of joy within my bosom rising, /_7' Ere it be'born, destroys, and in my breast Chokes every thought that gives existence zest, -With thousand soulless trifles of an hour. And when the dark night-shadows lower, I seek to ease my aching brain Upon a weary couch in vain. With throngs of feverish dreams possessed, --Even in the home of sleep I find no rest;--i The god, that in my bosom dwells, Can stir my being's inmost...
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