Faust, Part One

Ye approach again, ye wavering forms, which once, in the morning of life, presented yourselves to my troubled view! Shall I try, this time, to hold you fast? Do I feel my heart still inclined to that illusion ? Ye crowd upon me! well then, ye may hold dominion over me, as ye rise around out of vapour and mist. My bosom feels youthfully agitated by the magic breath which surrounds your train. Ye bring with you the images of happy days, and many loved shades arise: like to an old half-forgotten tradition, rises first-love, with friendship, in their company. The pang is renewed; the plaint repeats the labyrinthine mazy course of life, and names the dear ones, who, cheated of fair hours by fate, have vanished away before me. They hear not the following lays—the souls to whom I sang my first. Dispersed is the friendly throng—the first echo, alas, has died away! My sorrow resounds among a strange crowd: their very applause saddens my heart ; and those who were once gladdened by my song —if still living, stray scattered through the world. And a yearning, long unfelt, for that quiet pensive spirit-realm seizes me. In half-formed tones my lisping lay is hovering like the Molian harp. A tremor seizes me: tear follows tear: the austere heart feels itself growing mild and soft. What I have, I see as in the distance; and what is gone, becomes a reality to me.