Hovering there(9)
I've chased the shouting wind(10) along and flung(11)
My eager craft through footless halls of air.
Up, up along delirious(12), burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights(13) with easy
grace,
Where never lark, or even eagle(14) flew;
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space(15),
Put out my hand(16), and touched the face of God.
from John Gillespie Magee Jr., "High Flight")