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High Flight Poem Poster | 
     
    
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					B292 High Flight (Poem) 
					   During the dark days of the 
					Blitz, John Gillespie Magee, Jr., was one of the many 
					Americans who enlisted in the Royal Canadian Air Force. 
					Within a year, he was sent to England and assigned to the 
					No. 412 Fighter Squadron, RCAF, where he flew the 
					Supermarine Spitfire. On September 3, 1941, he flew a high 
					altitude test flight in a new model of the Spitfire V. As he 
					climbed upward through 33,000 feet, he experienced great 
					exhilaration, which inspired his immortal line, "to touch 
					the face of God". He later expanded it into a poem. 
					   Three months later, he was killed in a midair collision. 
					He was only 19 years old. Although young John Magee was 
					lost, he had sent a copy of his poem to his father, who was 
					then rector of a Washington, DC church. His father printed 
					it in church publications. This led to its inclusion in an 
					exhibition of poems called Faith and Freedom at the 
					Library of Congress in February 1942.  
					   High Flight has since become the most famous 
					aviation poem ever written. It has inspired countless 
					aviators and astronauts. It is the subject of a special 
					exhibit at the National Museum of the United States Air 
					Force in Dayton, Ohio. U.S. Air Force Academy cadets are 
					required to memorize it.  
					   The poster magnificently depicts his Spitfire climbing 
					toward the peak of its exciting flight, and cites the full 
					text of his ageless and classic poem. A caption, located in 
					the lower left corner, tells the story behind it. 
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					| Laminated | 
					No. B292L | 
					
					$18.95 | 
					
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					| Non-Laminated | 
					No. B292F | 
					
					$9.95 | 
					
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					 High Flight 
					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 windswept heights with easy grace 
					Where never lark, or even eagle flew - 
					And, while with silent lifting mind I’ve trod 
					The high untresspassed sanctity of space, 
					Put out my hand and touched the face of God  | 
				 
			 
			 
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