_All Three_. The sight new strength to angels lendeth,
For none thy being fathom may,
The works, no angel comprehendeth,
Stand lordly as on time's first day.

_Mephistopheles_. Since, Lord, thou drawest near us once again,
And how we do, dost graciously inquire,
And to be pleased to see me once didst deign,
I too among thy household venture nigher.
Pardon, high words I cannot labor after,
Though the whole court should look on me with scorn;
My pathos certainly would stir thy laughter,
Hadst thou not laughter long since quite forsworn.
Of sun and worlds I've nought to tell worth mention,
How men torment themselves takes my attention.
The little God o' the world jogs on the same old way
And is as singular as on the world's first day.
A pity 'tis thou shouldst have given
The fool, to make him worse, a gleam of light from heaven;
He calls it reason, using it
To be more beast than ever beast was yet.
He seems to me, (your grace the word will pardon,)
Like a long-legg'd grasshopper in the garden,
Forever on the wing, and hops and sings
The same old song, as in the grass he springs;
Would he but stay there! no; he needs must muddle
His prying nose in every puddle.

_The Lord_. Hast nothing for our edification?
Still thy old work of accusation?