
The poem, High Flight, has over the years become a mantra to pilots.
It is reproduced here as a tribute to, and in memory of pilots of all generations.
High FlightOh! I have slipped the surly bonds of earthAnd 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.
|
|
|
Pilot Officer Gillespie Magee No 412 squadron, RCAF Killed 11 December 1941
|
|
| 1944: Return to France | 1945: Victory | Post-War Years | Preserved Examples | High Flight]