HIGH FLIGHT

Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of earth and danced the sky on laughter-silvered wings; sunward I've climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth of sun-split clouds and done a hundred things you have not dreamed of: wheeled and soared and swung.

High in the sunlit silence: hovering there, I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung my eager craft through footless halls of air:

Up, up the long delirious burning blue I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace where never lark or even eagle flew, and while with silent, lifting mind I've trod the high untresspassed sanctity of space, put out my hand and touched the face of God.

by John Gillespie Magee, Jr.