Spirit monologue (Act 6) — Faust: A Tragedy

Thy panting prayer besought my might to view, To hear my voice, and know my semblance too; Now bending from my native sphere to please thee, Here am I!--ha! what pitiful terrors seize thee, And overman thee quite! where now the call Of that proud soul, that scorned to own the thrall Of earth, a world within itself created, And bore and cherished? that with its fellows sated Swelled with prophetic joy to leave its sphere, And live a spirit with spirits, their rightful peer. Where art thou, Faust? whose invocation rung Upon mine ear, whose powers all round me clung? Art thou that Faust? whom melts my breath away, Trembling even to the life-depths of thy frame, Like a poor worm that crawls into his clay!