Oh, I have slipped the surly bonds of Earth
And danced the skies on laughter-silvered wings.
Sunward Iíve climbed, and joined the tumbling mirth
On sun-split clouds,----and done a hundred things
You have not dreamed of-----wheeled and soared and swung
High in the sunlit silence. Hovíring there,
Iíve chased the shouting wind along, and flung
My eager craft through footless halls of air....

Up, up the long, delirious, burning blue
Iíve topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace,
Where never lark, or even eagle flew----
And while with silent, lifting mind Iíve trod
The high, untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand and touched the face of God!

Editorís note:
Written by: John Gillespie Magee, Jr., Royal Canadian Air Force pilot who was shot down over England on December 11, 1941, at the age of nineteen.

Shortly before his death, John Magee sent his mother this poem, High Flight, which was soon to become known the world over and is still, to this day, considered the greatest poem to come out of World War II.

ďThank You!, Sir.Ē

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