Up, up the long, delirious burning blue

A lot of poets use allusions to or phrases from other works, it is often a tribute to other poets. From an academic view it would be interesting to know what other reading he did.
But what really matters to me is that, no matter how much aviation (or war) poetry I read, nothing else comes close to this in bringing back the memories of my flying days.

Indeed.

Much that the Wright Brothers incorporated into their aircraft derived from earlier or contemporary attempts.

But it was they who assembled the parts correctly to make the whole, the first aircraft. The one that flew.

I feel the same about the poem.

Moggy

I read some years ago a very similar poem indeed written by a Cranwell Cadet ( later recce pilot) in I think, 1938, which was published in a copy of the College magazine now held in the Medmenham Museum at Chicksands.
Like most non-technical history, whatever was “fact” is now wrapped up in “myth” without any intentions of deliberate deceit.
Perhaps its best to just leave matters rest in cases like this – it was one of the few poems I learned as a kid, from the front of the Harleyford “Spitfire” book in the early 60’s; so it even penetrated my thick skin.
Its a poignant little story that does no harm -let it be.

I have a wartime article about the poem if anyone’s interested. This comes from Contact: The Official Magazine of the Royal New Zealand Air Force, April-May 1942. I suspect the original source was a US-based report. I’ll not bother quoting the poem itself.

Pilot Officer John Gillespie Magee Jnr., an American citizen born of missionary parents in Shanghai and educated at Britain’s famed Rugby school, was killed on active service in Britain last December. He was 19 years old and had the cause of freedom in his heart.
Pilot Officer Magee had poetry in his heart too, and, in the form of a sonnet, he left a message to youth which his parents consider may be a greater thing than anything he had done in the way of fighting.
Pilot Officer Magee sent the sonnet, scribbled on the back of a letter to his parents, Reverend and Mrs. John G. Magee, who now live in Washington. Mr Magee is assistant Minister at St. John’s Church, Lafayette Square. The Library of Congress, learning of the poem, has requested the original manuscript for inclusion in a collection called “Poems For Faith and Freedom,” which includes works of Burns, Clough, Longfellow, Walt Whiman and Shelley.
The poem was composed last September as the exultant freedom of soaring 30,000 feet the earth amde a word-pattern in his mind. These words were scribbled on the back of a letter after he had returned to earth:-

[POEM INSERTED HERE]

After learning of his son’s death, Mr magee wrote to the RCAF: “When my wife and I saw how deeply he felt about the situation in September 1940, we gave our consent and blessing to him, as he left us to enter the RCAF. We were proud of his determination and spirit. We knew that such news as did come might come. When his sonnet reached us we felt then that it had a message for American youth, but did not know how to get it before them. Now his death has emblazened it across the whole country. We are thinking that this may have been a greater contribution than anything he may have done in the way of fighting, for surely our American youth must enter this conflict in the high spirit of idealism and faith… May we thank the RCAF for all the training and help you have given to our boy.
“We saw a tremendous change in him when he returned to us from his training, a change that was all for the good. We do not regret that we gave our consent to his going and will be forever proud of him.”
Pilot Officer Magee lived in Shanghai for nine years and then was sent to England for his education. After Rugby he came to the United States for the first time in the summer of 1939 and there won a scholarship which would send him to Yale. He was entered at Yale in September 1940, when, having attained his eightennth birthday, he felt he must fight.
He enlisted in Montreal early in october and, on completion of his training at a Flying Training School near Ottawa, he was commissioned from the ranks in June 1941, and proceeded overseas shortly afterwards.

There’s a remarkable amount about Magee on the web, much of it actually accurate and useful.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/High_flight

…some of the most lyrical and moving passages were ‘borrowed’ from previous works by other poets.

Very few poets can actually completely duck charges of plagiarism, even old Bill of the plays and sonnets. IIRC the same article (and in the Wikipedia ref above) it pointed out a number of reasonable similarities to previous poetry, but it’s not a copy of another single poem, thus essentially original. However, no-one’s (even unlamented presidents) likely to degrade it from being an original and highly (over?-) popular work.

Recently it was published as a ‘foreword’ in a otherwise well-researched aviation biography, attributed to Saint-Expury. :rolleyes:

Well, P/O Magee sort of died in a training accident–collided with an Oxford in cloud iirc. He was on Spits by that time.

Had never heard previously the reference to parts of “High Flight” having been borrowed. It would be interesting to hear more detail on that; such would not, though, change the moving quality of this famous little sonnet. Not for me, anyway. Quite a few times I heard Stu Holloway’s reading of it during (former Fw190 pilot) Oscar Boesch’s sublime sailplane routine. It never once failed to mist me right up…

S.

Then the Challenger Shuttle was lost, and Reagan mangled the poem in a mawkish tribute to the perished crew. And thus, the magic slipped away.

This year the flying has been so scarce that when I put out my hand, I only touch the face of dog.

I though it was a nice touch of Reagan to quote it. And I thought he did a nice job of it. 😀

You are far too cynical. 😮 Especially when its author fought and died (albeit in training) for your country.

A few years back Aeroplane ran a piece on that poem, which rather put the boot in, and indicated that some of the most lyrical and moving passages were ‘borrowed’ from previous works by other poets.

The case seemed pretty robust, and left me somewhat saddened that it had tainted what had once been a much-favoured poem. I stumbled across it when aged about 14, and for a while it seemed like a sort of private treasure, until I gradually came to realise that damn poem was everywhere.

Then the Challenger Shuttle was lost, and Reagan mangled the poem in a mawkish tribute to the perished crew. And thus, the magic slipped away.

This year the flying has been so scarce that when I put out my hand, I only touch the face of dog.

Amazing poem, no more descriptive could he be, wasn t he an alumni of the BCATP in Canada before the US entered the war, trained in southern Ontario? cheers Darrell

A young man who was a spendid example of the oft-maligned “special relationship” between the U.K. and U.S.

R.I.P. John and to your colleagues as well.

A poem I thought I hated for years.

Perhaps it’s because it makes my eyes prickle every time?

Adrian

Rest in Peace…

Took this in August this year…

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 untrespassed sanctity of space,
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.

John Gillespie Magee

One of my favorite poems of all time.

RIP… Sleep well.