 I have slept 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 on a hundred things you have not dreamed of. Wealed and soared and swung high in the sunlight silence. Hovering there, I've chased the shotting wind along and flung my eager craft through footless hauls of air. Up, up the long delirious burning blue, I've topped the windswept heights with easy grace, when never lark or even eagle flew. And while with silent, lifting mind, I've trod the high, untrustfast sanctity of space, but out my hand had touched the face of God.