Spirit

To see me thou dost breathe thine invocation, My voice to hear, to gaze upon my brow; Me doth thy strong entreaty bow-- Lo! I am here I--What cowering agitation Grasps thee, the demigod! Where's now the soul's deep cry? Where is the breast, which in its depths a world conceiv'd And bore and cherished? which, with ecstasy, To rank itself with us, the spirits, heaved? Where art thou, Faust? whose voice I heard resound, Who towards me press'd with energy profound? Art thou he? Thou,--who by my breath art blighted, Who, in his spirit's depths affrighted, Trembles, a crush'd and writhing worm!