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. Hovering¹ there

I've chased the shouting winds along， and flung

My eager craft through footless halls of air；

Up， up the long， delirious²， burning blue

I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace，

Where never lark³ nor 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， 1922-1941