Mary Faust Part Six

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A yearning long unfelt, each impulse swaying,
To yon calm spirit-realm uplifts my soul;
In faltering cadence, as when Zephyr playing,
Fans the Aeolian harp, my numbers roll;
Tear follows tear, my steadfast heart obeying
The tender impulse, loses its control;
What I possess as from afar I see;
Those I have lost become realities to me.

Prologue in the Theatre
MANAGER. DRAMATIC POET. MERRYMAN.

MANAGER

Ye twain, in trouble and distress
True friends whom I so oft have found,
Say, for our scheme on German ground,
What prospect have we of success?
Fain would I please the public, win their thanks;
They live and let live, hence it is but meet.
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I'm filling balloons. Seven Sunday panels gives me lots of balloons.
I ran my final 20 mile training run - 20.09 miles in 3:25:19.90. I will set a new personal record if I can repeat that performance for the marathon on Jan. 31.