Classic Poem

It quivered from the ground
And felt the air uphold its struggling wings,
The mounting aeroplane!
In the dim theater we watched its course
Upon the screen,
And saw it rise, until the villages
Were as toy houses ranged along a floor,
Till rivers and the roads seemed swirls of tape,
And only clouds were man-sized things and true!
So, up and up—across wide plains of sky
The sharp wings fared;
And we sat wondering, feet upon the earth,
But spirits lifted, racing with keen winds
That fly between the stars.
And then—he stood—
The bulky man in front,
Drew on his coat, humped in thick folds,
His gloves,
Rounded his back and stooped to find his hat,
Stood square,
And blotted out the fluttering thing that held,
Singing within its engine's crowded space,
The spirit of a million million birds.