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 chase 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 wind-swept heights with easy grace,

Where never lark or even eagle, flew;

And, while with silent lifting mind I’ve trod

The high, un-trespassed sanctity of space,

Put out my hand and touched the face of God.

John Gillespie McCrea, Jr.

R  C  A  F

Killed in Action December 1941 - Age 19