SCENE THE LAST.
ANGELS.
[Hovering in the higher regions of air, and hearing the immortal part of Faust.]
THE spirit-region's noble limbHath 'scaled the Archfiend's power;For we have strength to rescue himWho labours ev'ry hour.
And if he feels within his breastA ray of love from heaven.
He's met by all the squadron blestWith welcome gladly given.
THE YOUNGER ANGELS.
Yonder roses, from the holy Hands of penitents so lowly, Help'd to render us victorious, And to do the deed all-glorious;For they gain'd us this soul-treasure.
Evil ones those roses banish'd,Devils, when we met them, vanish'd.
Spirits felt love's pangs with pleasure, Where hell's torments used to dwell;E'en the hoary king of hell Felt sharp torments through him run.
Shout for joy! the prize is won.
