(He contemplates the sign.)

How each the Whole its substance gives,
Each in the other works and lives! 
Like heavenly forces rising and descending,
Their golden urns reciprocally lending,
With wings that winnow blessing
From Heaven through Earth I see them pressing,
Filling the All with harmony unceasing! 
How grand a show! but, ah! a show alone. 
Thee, boundless Nature, how make thee my own? 
Where you, ye beasts?  Founts of all Being, shining,
Whereon hang Heaven’s and Earth’s desire,
Whereto our withered hearts aspire,—­
Ye flow, ye feed:  and am I vainly pining?

(He turns the leaves impatiently, and perceives the sign of the Earth-Spirit.)

How otherwise upon me works this sign! 
Thou, Spirit of the Earth, art nearer: 
Even now my powers are loftier, clearer;
I glow, as drunk with new-made wine: 
New strength and heart to meet the world incite me,
The woe of earth, the bliss of earth, invite me,
And though the shock of storms may smite me,
No crash of shipwreck shall have power to fright me! 
Clouds gather over me—­
The moon conceals her light—­
The lamp’s extinguished!—­
Mists rise,—­red, angry rays are darting
Around my head!—­There falls
A horror from the vaulted roof,
And seizes me! 
I feel thy presence, Spirit I invoke! 
Reveal thyself! 
Ha! in my heart what rending stroke! 
With new impulsion
My senses heave in this convulsion! 
I feel thee draw my heart, absorb, exhaust me: 
Thou must! thou must! and though my life it cost me!

(He seizes the book, and mysteriously pronounces the sign of the Spirit.  A ruddy flame flashes:  the Spirit appears in the flame.)

SPIRIT

Who calls me?

FAUST (with averted head)

Terrible to see!

SPIRIT

Me hast thou long with might attracted,
Long from my sphere thy food exacted,
And now—­

FAUST

  Woe!  I endure not thee!

SPIRIT

To view me is thine aspiration,
My voice to hear, my countenance to see;
Thy powerful yearning moveth me,
Here am I!—­what mean perturbation
Thee, superhuman, shakes?  Thy soul’s high calling, where? 
Where is the breast, which from itself a world did bear,
And shaped and cherished—­which with joy expanded,
To be our peer, with us, the Spirits, banded? 
Where art thou, Faust, whose voice has pierced to me,
Who towards me pressed with all thine energy?
He art thou, who, my presence breathing, seeing,
Trembles through all the depths of being,
A writhing worm, a terror-stricken form?

FAUST