Faust: a Tragedy, Translated from German

What I possess I see afar off lying,
And what I lost is real and undying.

O yes, we've reached the stars at last!
My friend, it is to us,—the buried past,—
A book with seven seals protected;
Your spirit of the times is, then,
At bottom, your own spirit, gentlemen,
In which the times are seen reflected.
And often such a mess that none can bear it;
At the first sight of it they run away.
A dust-bin and a lumber-garret

well, art is long!
And life is short and fleeting.

Seek honest gains, without pretence!
Be not a cymbal-tinkling fool!
Sound understanding and good sense
Speak out with little art or rule;
And when you've something earnest to utter,
Why hunt for words in such a flutter?
Yes, your discourses, that are so refined'
In which humanity's poor shreds you frizzle,
Are unrefreshing as the mist and wind
That through the withered leaves of autumn whistle

What you don't feel, you'll never catch by hunting,

God made and planted men, his sons,
Through smoke and mould, around thee stare

Sees not the gardener, in the green young plant,
That bloom and fruit shall deck its coming season

No, Lord! I find them still as bad as bad can be. Poor souls! their miseries seem so much to please 'em, I scarce can find it in my heart to tease 'em

Manager. Come, words enough you two have bandied,
Now let us see some deeds at last;
While you toss compliments full-handed,
The time for useful work flies fast.
Why talk of being in the humor?
Who hesitates will never be.
If you are poets (so says rumor)
Now then command your poetry.
You know full well our need and pleasure,
We want strong drink in brimming measure;
Brew at it now without delay!
To-morrow will not do what is not done to-day.
Let not a day be lost in dallying,
But seize the possibility
Right by the forelock, courage rallying,
And forth with fearless spirit sallying,—
Once in the yoke and you are free

Age does not make us childish, as they say,
But we are still true children when it finds us.