Through the stones and heather springing, Brook and brooklet haste below;Hark the rustling! Hark the singing! Hearken to love's plaintive lays; Voices ofthose heavenly days What we hope, and what we love! Like a tale of oldentime, Echo's voice prolongs the chime.
His lofty step, His bearing high, The smile of his lip, The power of his eye,His witching words, Their tones of bliss, His hand's fond pressure And ah -his kiss! My peace is gone, My heart is sore, I find it never, And nevermore.My bosom aches To feel him near; Ah, could I clasp And fold him here!Kiss him and kiss him Again would I, And on his kisses I fain would die.Martha's Garden
This girl must win for me! Dost hear?}
The sweet young innocent!
Unless indeed the yawning ground Should open to receive them, From thisvile crew, with sudden bound, To Hell I'd jump and leave them.Xenien
No! No! The devil is an egoist I know: And, for Heaven's sake, 'tis not hisway Kindness to any one to show. Let the condition plainly be exprest! Sucha domestic is a dangerous guest.
I swear it seemeth like a dream to me. May I some future time repeat my visit,To hear on what your wisdom grounds your views?Mephistopheles