Sky-lakes of amber,
Others are swimming
Over the ocean;--
All are in motion,
Life-ward all yearning,
Longingly turning
To the far-burning
Star-light of bliss.

_Mephistopheles_. He sleeps! Ye airy, tender youths, your numbers
Have sung him into sweetest slumbers!
You put me greatly in your debt by this.
Thou art not yet the man that shall hold fast the devil!
Still cheat his senses with your magic revel,
Drown him in dreams of endless youth;
But this charm-mountain on the sill to level,
I need, O rat, thy pointed tooth!
Nor need I conjure long, they're near me,
E'en now comes scampering one, who presently will hear me.

The sovereign lord of rats and mice,
Of flies and frogs and bugs and lice,
Commands thee to come forth this hour,
And gnaw this threshold with great power,
As he with oil the same shall smear--
Ha! with a skip e'en now thou'rt here!
But brisk to work! The point by which I'm cowered,
Is on the ledge, the farthest forward.
Yet one more bite, the deed is done.--
Now, Faust, until we meet again, dream on!