Faust. A few steps further on, until we reach that stone;
There will we rest us from our wandering. 
How oft in prayer and penance there alone,
Fasting, I sate, on holy mysteries pondering. 
There, rich in hope, in faith still firm,
I’ve wept, sighed, wrung my hands and striven
This plague’s removal to extort (poor worm!)
From the almighty Lord of Heaven. 
The crowd’s applause has now a scornful tone;
O couldst thou hear my conscience tell its story,
How little either sire or son
Has done to merit such a glory! 
My father was a worthy man, confused
And darkened with his narrow lucubrations,
Who with a whimsical, though well-meant patience,
On Nature’s holy circles mused. 
Shut up in his black laboratory,
Experimenting without end,
’Midst his adepts, till he grew hoary,
He sought the opposing powers to blend. 
Thus, a red lion,[11] a bold suitor, married
The silver lily, in the lukewarm bath,
And, from one bride-bed to another harried,
The two were seen to fly before the flaming wrath. 
If then, with colors gay and splendid,
The glass the youthful queen revealed,
Here was the physic, death the patients’ sufferings ended,
And no one asked, who then was healed? 
Thus, with electuaries so satanic,
Worse than the plague with all its panic,
We rioted through hill and vale;
Myself, with my own hands, the drug to thousands giving,
They passed away, and I am living
To hear men’s thanks the murderers hail!

Wagner. Forbear! far other name that service merits! 
Can a brave man do more or less
Than with nice conscientiousness
To exercise the calling he inherits? 
If thou, as youth, thy father honorest,
To learn from him thou wilt desire;
If thou, as man, men with new light hast blest,
Then may thy son to loftier heights aspire.

Faust. O blest! who hopes to find repose,
Up from this mighty sea of error diving! 
Man cannot use what he already knows,
To use the unknown ever striving. 
But let not such dark thoughts a shadow throw
O’er the bright joy this hour inspires! 
See how the setting sun, with ruddy glow,
The green-embosomed hamlet fires! 
He sinks and fades, the day is lived and gone,
He hastens forth new scenes of life to waken. 
O for a wing to lift and bear me on,
And on, to where his last rays beckon! 
Then should I see the world’s calm breast
In everlasting sunset glowing,
The summits all on fire, each valley steeped in rest,
The silver brook to golden rivers flowing. 
No savage mountain climbing to the skies
Should stay the godlike course with wild abysses;
And now the sea, with sheltering, warm recesses
Spreads out before the astonished eyes. 
At last it seems as if the God were sinking;
But a new impulse fires the mind,
Onward I speed, his endless glory drinking,