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 wind-swept heights with easy grace
Where never lark nor 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.

For more information about this poem go to the Library of Congress website at the link below:




Who Does God’s Work Will Get God’s Pay 

Who does God’s work will get God’s pay
However long may seem the day
However weary be the way
No mortal hand, God’s hand can stay
He may not pay as others pay
In gold or skills or raiment’s gay
In goods that perish and decay
But his high wisdom knows a way
And this is sure let come what may
Who does God’s work will get God’s pay


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