High flight

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.
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 untrespassed sanctity of space,
put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

© John Gillespie Magee, Jr. September 3, 1941