Oh, I have slipped the
surly bonds of earth and danced the skies 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.
Hov'ring 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 Maj. John
Gillespie Magee, Jr.
Other Versions of High Flight