Soundeth the bell, the fearful clang
Thrills through these sooty walls; no more
Upon fulfilment waits the pang
Of hope or fear;—suspense is o'er;
The darknesses begin to clear,
Within the inmost phial glows
Radiance, like living coal, that throws,
As from a splendid carbuncle, its rays;
Athwart the gloom its lightning plays.
A pure white lustre doth appear;
O may I never lose it more!—
My God! what rattles at the door?
MEPHISTOPHELES (entering)
Welcome! As friend I enter here.
WAGNER
Hail to the star that rules the hour!
(Softly)
On breath and utterance let a ban be laid!
Soon will be consummate a work of power.
MEPHISTOPHELES (in a whisper)
What is it, then?
WAGNER
A man is being made.