Manager. Enough of words: 'tis time that we Were come to deeds; while you are spinning Fine airy phrases, fancy-free, We might have made some good beginning. What stuff you talk of being in the vein! A lazy man is never in the vein. If once your names are on the poet's roll, The Muses should be under your control. You know our want; a good stiff liquor To make their creeping blood flow quicker; Then brew the brews without delay; What was not done to-day, to-morrow Will leave undone for greater sorrow. Don't stand, and stare, and block the way, But with a firm, set purpose lay Hold of your bright thoughts as they rise to view, And bid them stay; Once caught, they will not lightly run away, Till they have done what in them lies to do. Among the sons of German play, Each tries his hand at what he may; Therefore be brilliant in your scenery, And spare no cost on your machinery. Let sun and moon be at your call, And scatter stars on stars around; Let water, fire, and rocky wall, And bird and beast and fish abound. Thus in your narrow booth mete forth The wide creation's flaming girth, And wing your progress, pondered well, From heaven to earth, from earth to hell. PROLOGUE IN HEAVEN. /The Lord/--/The Heavenly Hosts/: afterwards /Mephistopheles/. Raphael. The Sun doth chime his ancient music 'Mid brothered spheres' contending song. And on his fore-appointed journey With pace of thunder rolls along. Strength drink the angels from his glory, Though none may throughly search his way: God's works rehearse their wondrous story As bright as on Creation's day. Gabriel. And swift and swift beyond conceiving The pomp of earth is wheeled around, Alternating Elysian brightness With awful gloom of night profound. Up foams the sea, a surging river, And smites the steep rock's echoing base, And rock and sea, unwearied ever, Spin their eternal circling race. Michael. And storm meets storm with rival greeting, From sea to land, from land to sea, While from their war a virtue floweth, That thrills with life all things that be. The lightning darts his fury, blazing Before the thunder's sounding way; But still thy servants, Lord, are praising The gentle going of thy day. All the Three. Strength drink the angels from thy glory, Though none may search thy wondrous way; Thy works repeat their radiant story, As bright as on Creation's day.