Mephistopheles monologue (Act 10) — Faust: A Tragedy

No whiff I feel that hath a smell of May; I am most wintry cold in every limb; I'd sooner track my road o'er frost and snow. How sadly mounts the imperfect moon!--so dim Shines forth its red disk, with belated glow, We run the risk, at every step, on stones Or stumps of crazy trees, to break our bones. You must allow me to request the aid Of a Will-o-the-Wisp;--I see one right ahead, And in the bog it blazes merrily. Holla! my good friend! dare I be so free? Two travellers here stand much in need of thee; Why should'st thou waste thy flickering flame in vain? Pray be so good as light us up the hill!