Up the stream,
Across the bridge,
To the left hand,
Where the plank stands,
In the pond,
Seize it, quick!
It rises up,
It kicks! it lives!
O save it, save it!
Faust.
Only bethink thee!
One step more, and thou art free.
Margaret.
Would we were past that mountain gray!
There sits my mother on a stone—
I feel a hand that pulls me back
As cold as clay!
There sits my mother on a stone;
Her head sways heavily;
She winks not, she nods not, her head she may not raise.
She slept so long, she never more may wake.
She slept that we might our enjoyment take.
O these were happy days!
Faust.
Here words and prayers will only make things worse;
Come! come; or I must hale thee hence by force.
Margaret.
Let me alone! lay no rough hands on me!
Nor with such murderous clutches seize me!
Thou know’st I have done everything to please thee.
Faust.
The day dawns. Come, my Gretchen, follow me!
Margaret.
Day! yes, it is day! the Judgment-day breaks in!
My marriage-day it should have been!
Let no one know thou wert before with Margaret.
Woe to my wreath!
’Tis done! oh, pain!
We will meet again;
But not at the dance.
