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See yonder, round a many-coloured flame
A merry-«lnb n huddled all loftier -

w ""i."l TM'* ^ f*0^ «''u* there
'•toe would not be alone.

ir_ Jm . , Would that I were

w here the blmd million rah impetuously
To meet the erU one. ; there might I solve
Many a riddle that torment* me!


Ye4 Many a riddle there n tied anew Inextricably. Let the great world rare! We will stay here safe in the quiet dwellings. r» an old custom. Men have ever built Their own small world in the great world of aH

Wisely attired with greater decency.
Be gmded now by me, and you shall buy
A pound of pleasure with a dram of treble
1 hear them tune their instruments—one must
u£& T damned scraping. Come, I'll

Among them ; and what there you do and see,
Aa a fresh compact 'twixt us two shall be.

How say you now? this space is wide enough—
Look forth, you cannot see the end of it—
A hundred bonfires burn in rows, and they
Who throng around them seem innumerable •
Dancmg and drinking, jabbering, making love,
And cookmg, are at work. Now tell me?friend,
What is there better m the world than this!

J" 'mjoducing us, do you assume
f he character of wizard or of devil?


In truth, I generally go about In strict incognito ; and yet one likes lo wear one's orders upon gala days I have no ribbon at my knee ; but here At home the cloven foot is honourable ^/""f ""Mil there ?—she comes creeping up, thing: "g Byea hath 8melt °^ *»me'

I could not, if I would, mask myself here. Come now we'll go about from fire to fire: 1II be the pimp, and you shall be the lover.

ITo ,om, old Wonun, «,ho art .Ming round a h,ap of glim mering coalt. Old gentlewomen, what do you do out here' You ought to be with the young rioters Kight m the thickest of the revelry— Hut every one is best content at home.


i People assert their rizhts; they '^i^uT-
But, as for me, the zood old'times I praii.

Then we were ailh, ail; 'twas something worth
One s while to be in place and wearTstar •

That was mdeed the golden age on earth.'


Wetoo are active, and we did and do

What we oueht not perhaps ; and y« we now

Wdl seizeswhUst all things are whirled rood and

round, A spoke of Fortune's wheel, and keep onrground.


Who now can taste a treatise of deep sense And ponderous volume! Tis impertinence 1 o write what none will read, therefore will I lo piease the young and thoughtless people try. (Who at»» mypemrs to hate

I T «_j i ^roicn eery old.)

I find the people ripe for the last dav,
hmce I last came upto the wizard niountain •
And as my little cask runs turbid now,
bo is the world drained to the dregs.


Gentlemen ; do not hurry on so fast, ^ ^

And lose the chance of a good pennyworth.

I have a pack full of the choicest wares

x ev?"' sort' "id jet in all mv bundle

Is nothmg like what may be found on earth;

iVitnmg that m a moment will make rich

Men and the world with fine malicious mischief—

Inere is no dagger drunk with blood ; no bowl

t rom whieh consuming poison mav be drained

By mnocent and healthy lips; no jewel,

Ine priee of an abandoned maiden's shame;

Or stabs the wearer's enemy in the back;


Gossip yon know little of these times.
What has been, has been ; what is done, is past.
They shape themselves into the innovations
They breed, and innovation drags us with it.
The torrent of the crowd sweep! over us;
*ou thmk to impel, and are yourself impelled.

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Lilith, the first wife of Adam.
Beware of her fair hair, for she excels
All women m the magic of her locks:

necr" """^ tht,m T°uud * JOuDS nuU1'8 She will not ever set him free again.

* A sort of fundholder.


There «it a girl and an old woman—they
Seem to be tired with pleasure and with play.


There is no rest to-night for any one:
When one dance ends another is begun;
Come, let us to it. We shall have rare fun.

[faust dances and tings with a Girl, and Mephisto-
PHKIKS with an old Woman.


What is this cursed multitude about?

Have we not long since proved to demonstration

That ghosts move not on ordinary feet!

But these are dancing just like men and women.


What does he want then at our ball!


Oh! he
Is far above us all in his conceit:
Whilst we enjoy, he reasons of enjoyment;
And any step which in our dance we tread,
If it be left out of his reckoning,
Is not to be considered as a step.
There are few things that scandalise him not;
And, when you whirl round in the circle now,
As he went round the wheel in his old mill,
He says that you go wrong in all respects,
Especially if you congratulate him
Upon the strength of the resemblance.

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Vanish ! Unheard-of impudence! What, still there!
In this enlightened age too, since you have boen
Proved not to exist!—But this infernal brood
Will hear no reason and endure no rule.
Are we so wise, and is the pond still haunted!
How long have I been sweeping out this rubbish
Of superstition, and the world will not
Come clean with all my pains !—it is a case
Unheard of!


Then leave off teasing us so.


I tell you, spirits, to your faces now,
That I should not regret this despotism
Of spirits, but that mine can wield it not.
To-night I shall make poor work of it,
Yet I will take a round with you and hope
Before my last step in the living dance
To beat the poet and the devil together.


At last he will sit down in some foul puddle;
That is his way of solacing himself;
Uutil some leech, diverted with his gravity,
Cures him of spirits and the spirit together.

[To Faurt, who has seceded from the dance.
Why do you let that fair girl pass from you,
Who sang so sweetly to you in the dance i


A red mouse in the middle of her singing
Sprang from her mouth.


That was all right, my friend: Be it enough that the mouse was not grey. Do not disturb your hour of happiness With close consideration of such trifles.

Then saw I




Seest thou not a pale Fair girl, standing alone, far, far away? She drags herself now forward with slow steps, And seems as if she moved with shackled feet: I cannot overcome the thought that she Is like poor Margaret.


Let it be—pass on— No good can come of it—it is not well To meet it—it is an enchanted phantom, A lifeless idol; with its numbing look, It freezes up the blood of man ; and they Who meet its ghastly stare are turned to stone, Like those. who saw Medusa.


0, too true I Her eyes are like the eyes of a fresh corpse Which no beloved hand has closed. Alas! That is the breast which Margaret yielded to me— Those are the lovely limbs which I enjoyed!


It is all magie, poor deluded fool!

She looks to every one like his first love.


0 what delight! what woe! I cannot turn
My looks from her sweet piteous countenance.
How strangely does a single blood-red line,
Not broader than the sharp edge of a knife,
Adorn her lovely neck!


Ay, she can carry Her head under her arm upon occasion; Perseus has cut it off for her. These pleasures End in delusion.—Gain this rising ground, It is as airy here as in a [ ]

And if I am not mightily deceived,

1 see a theatre.—What may this mean?


Quite a new piece, the last of seven, for 'tis
The custom now to represent that number.
'Tis written by a Dilettante, and
The actors who perform are Dilettanti;
Excuse me, gentlemen ; but I must vanish.
I am a Dilettante curtain-lifter.


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