Classic Poem

Ye who ascend into the cosmic blue,
Pledged to the glory of a mighty cause,
Clean-stript of cowardice, of self devoid,
Laughing to see the sudden yearning jaws
Of Death below you in the swimming void—
How shall we name a tribute fit for you?
How shall we build a monument whose height
Shall match the marvel of your splendid flight?

Soldiers ye are, before whose glorious deed
Praise topples prone and petty lips are dumb.
Ye gladly forfeit life and all it brings,
That in the kindling centuries to come,
Men, free as gods, shall cleave the air with wings,
Shall stride their superstitions as a steed;
Mounting with ecstasy the waiting herds
Of willing clouds, unfettered as the birds.

Brave navigators ye, in ships of air,
Heralds of progress, servants of the race
Great as Columbus was and yet more bold,
Ye plumb the regions of uncharted space
That millions now unborn shall yet be told
How mind has conquered matter everywhere!
Ye dare, that man may see himself supreme—
Lord of the air, and Master of his Dream.