New-York tribune. [volume] (New York [N.Y.]) 1866-1924, 1870-12-30
Np,v WORK DAILY TRIBUNE, FRIDAY DECEMBER &c. 1870

,iyid portTaturCs Cf love, and rapture ana despair"
he persons of its principal Characters. Inc cuiis
If the true poet is evinced in Mr.. Taylor sA,,'o
,hoice of epithets, and the artistic colorins,
90 bright, nor too faint which he mas o'''' A.
,ver the pictures that compose inc scen.e VI w
lrama But we will not waste 'lnie !" oi''," -
marks which few specimens OF 'ne "o'n "'" &C.,
,asily show TO DC superiluous. Our ilist cA""'' So
~ fron, ,ho monolocue of Faust, when he
go 60 n sense of the vanity of human wisdom
nd ,soIves 70 seek the aid of magic to relieve hs
!. eaI,erinc heart oppressed with unknown needs
FAUST.
I've studied now Philosophy
And Jurisprudence Medicine
Aud even alas Theolo Sy,--,
From end to end, with Labor Keen
And here. poor fool with oil my lore
l stand, no wiser than before:
IN Magstcr-yea, DoctOr-hlght, .
And straight or crosswise wrong or rleht
These ten years long, with many woes,
/ we led my scholars by the nose
And sec, that nothing can he known!
That knowledge cuts me To the bone
I'm ceverer true, than those fops OF teachers,
Doctors and MagiStcrs. Scribcs aud Preachers;
Neither scruplcs doubts come now To smile me-
Nor Hell nor Devil can longer alright me-
For this, Ill pleasure am foregoing
I do not pretend To aught worth knowing,
do not pretend could he teacher
To help or convert a fellowcreatufe,
Then, too, we neither lands nor gold, -
Nor the worlds least pomp or honor hold
No dog would endure such a curst eXiStencel
Wherefore, from Magic seek assistance,
That many secret perchance feach
Through spirit power and spiTit-speech,
And thus the bitter task forego
OF saving the things ! do not know
That NAV detect the lunOst force
Which binds the world, and guides Its course
Its germs productive powers explore
And rummage IN empty words no MORO
O fun and splendid Moon, whom
Have, f.Om this desk, seen climb the SKY
So many q midnight-would thy glow
For the last time bched my woe!
Ever thine eye, most mOuTnful friend,
Oer books and papers saw me bend;
But would that |, on mountains grand
Amid thy blessed light could stand,
With spirits through acknowledgements hover,
~ And, freed from the fumes of lore that swathe me-
To health in thy dewy fountains battle mel
All me this dungeon st see,
Tins drear, accurSed masonry,
Where oven the welcome daylight strains
Bat duskly through the painted pancs.
Temmed in by many topping hcap
OF books wOrm-eatcn, gray with dust,
Which to the yauited ceiling creep,
Against the smoky paper thrusi,-,,
With glasses, boxes, round me stacked,
And instruments together hurled,
Ancestral lumber, stuffed and packed
such is NY world and what world!
The colloquy between Faust and the Spirit whom
ne has evoked by his wizard arts. containing the
chant which describes the the ceaseless
notion of the Creative Power of the Universe, is
forcibly rendered as follows:
SPIRIT.
Faust (,rih drerted head.
Terrible to see!
SPIRIT.
Ne hast thou long with might attracted,
-Ong from my sphere thy food eXdctcd,
And now
FAUST.
Woe! endure not thee!
SPIRIT.
To- view me is thine aspiration,
Wy voice to hear, my cOuutendncc 10 see;
Ihy powerful yearI1ng moNcth me-
Here am what mean perturbation
Thee, superhuman, shakes my sOuls hgh Gaming
wherei ,,,,
Aud shaped and chershed-whch with JOY EXPANDED,
10 he our peer. with us, the Spirits, banded
Where art thUu Faust, whose voice has pierced TO me,
" no towards me pressed with all thine energy
he art thou, who, my presence breathing. seeing,
Irenhles through all the depths Oi being,
4 writing wUTIn teIrOr-stliCkcn fOlmf
Thee. form OF fame. shall then fcari
Yes, am Faust: am tny peer!
ia the tides Of Life, IL Actions storm,
\ fuctUGnt wave,
a shuttle free,
Birth and the Grave,
An eternal sea,
A weaving flowing
Thus at fines 6mcmns loom T is my hand prepares
The garment Of Life which the Deity wears
Thou, who around the wide world wendest,
'flou busy Spirit, how near feel to thee
SPIRIT.
Thou rt like the spirit which thou comprehendest,
Not me! tDisdPPedrS).
FAUST CorercheImed).
Not thee!
Whom thcni
/, image % the GO1head!
Not even like thee
Instrkug contrast with this passage is the " sweet
consolng chant" which creetsthe first glad hour Of
Easter A comparison of Mr. TaylOr's version Of
the angelic song with the original will show the diff
culteS which ne had 10 overcome, and the fidelity
with which he has preserved its gracious simplicity
of expression as well as its split of sweet and tender
piety.