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THE PUPIL IN MAGIC. - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, Goethe’s Works, vol. 1 (Poems) [1885]

Edition used:

Goethe’s Works, illustrated by the best German artists, 5 vols. (Philadelphia: G. Barrie, 1885). Vol. 1.

Part of: Goethe’s Works, 5 vols.

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THE PUPIL IN MAGIC.

    • I AM now,—what joy to hear it!
    • Of the old magician rid;
    • And henceforth shall ev’ry spirit
    • Do whate’er by me is bid;
    • I have watch’d with rigor
    • All he used to do,
    • And will now with vigor
    • Work my wonders too.
    • Wander, wander
    • Onward lightly,
    • So that rightly
    • Flow the torrent,
    • And with teeming waters yonder
    • In the bath discharge its current!
    • And now come, thou well-worn broom,
    • And thy wretched form bestir;
    • Thou hast ever serv’d as groom,
    • So fulfil my pleasure, sir!
    • On two legs now stand,
    • With a head on top;
    • Waterpail in hand,
    • Haste, and do not stop!
    • Wander, wander
    • Onward lightly,
    • So that rightly
    • Flow the torrent,
    • And with teeming waters yonder
    • In the bath discharge its current!
    • See! he’s running to the shore,
    • And has now attain’d the pool,
    • And with lightning speed once more
    • Comes here, with his bucket full!
    • Back he then repairs;
    • See how swells the tide!
    • How each pail he bears
    • Straightway is supplied!
    • Stop, for, lo!
    • All the measure
    • Of thy treasure
    • Now is right!—
    • Ah, I see it! woe, oh, woe!
    • I forget the word of might.
    • Ah, the word whose sound can straight
    • Make him what he was before!
    • Ah, he runs with nimble gait!
    • Would thou wert a broom once more!
    • Streams renew’d forever
    • Quickly bringeth he;
    • River after river
    • Rusheth on poor me!
    • Now no longer
    • Can I bear him;
    • I will snare him,
    • Knavish sprite!
    • Ah, my terror waxes stronger!
    • What a look! what fearful sight!
    • Oh, thou villain child of hell!
    • Shall the house through thee be drown’d?
    • Floods I see that wildly swell,
    • O’er the threshold gaining ground.
    • Wilt thou not obey,
    • Oh, thou broom accurs’d?
    • Be thou still, I pray,
    • As thou wert at first!
    • Will enough
    • Never please thee?
    • I will seize thee,
    • Hold thee fast,
    • And thy nimble wood so tough,
    • With my sharp axe split at last.
    • See, once more he hastens back!
    • Now, oh, Cobold, thou shalt catch it!
    • I will rush upon his track;
    • Crashing on him falls my hatchet.
    • Bravely done, indeed!
    • See, he’s cleft in twain!
    • Now from care I’m freed,
    • And can breathe again.
    • Woe, oh, woe!
    • Both the parts,
    • Quick as darts,
    • Stand on end,
    • Servants of my dreaded foe!
    • Oh, ye gods, protection send!
    • And they run! and wetter still
    • Grow the steps and grows the hall.
    • Lord and master, hear me call!
    • Ever seems the flood to fill,
    • Ah, he’s coming! see,
    • Great is my dismay!
    • Spirits rais’d by me
    • Vainly would I lay!
    • “To the side
    • Of the room
    • Hasten, broom,
    • As of old!
    • Spirits I have ne’er untied
    • Save to act as they are told.”
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