- Too Much Fun…
These things are sometimes very cruel…but very fun.
Who is like the lineman? Who is able to make war with him?
Who is this that appears like the dawn...
As fair as the moon...
As bright as the sun...
As majestic as the stars in procession...
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, delirious burning blue
I've topped the wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark, or ever eagle flew —
And, while with silent, lifting mind I've trod
The high untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
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