Fellowship of The Wing

The Making of a Fighter

Put on strength, renew your vision, rekindle the fire of your first love,

embrace the duty and call upon your life!

At thirty thousand feet,

the mounting exhilaration of John G. Magee's spirit blew off in singing words...

             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. Hov'ring there,

I've chased the shouting wind along, and flung

my eager craft through footless halls of air...

Up, up the long, delerious 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 untresspassed sanctity of space,

​Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

                                                                                  John G. Magee    8 / 18 / 41

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