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Lord, guard and guide the ones who fly,
Through the great spaces of the sky;
Be with them traversing the air
In darkening storms or sunshine fair.
You who keep with tender might
The balanced birds in all their flight,
Lord of the tempered winds, be near,
That, having you, they know no fear.
Control their minds with instinct fit
Whene'er adventuring, they quit
Firm security of land;
Grant steadfast eye and skillful hand.
Aloft in solitudes of space,
Uphold them with your saving grace.
Oh, God, protect the ones who fly
Through lonely ways beneath the sky. Amen.
Mary C.D. Hamilton, 1915, Quebec: L.M., Henry Baker, 1854
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I Flew
When I run my last checklist and make my last flight
I will think of the days I once knew.
It won't be of lightning or ice on my wings,
I will just remember— I flew
With my fuel running low and a wild sea below
And my options far less than a few.
I will gladly forget all the worry and sweat
And only remember— I flew!
While flying at night with no landmarks in sight,
The exhaust was all yellow and blue.
That comforting glow is a memory I know,
And it lets me remember—I flew
With the ceiling way down and the clouds on the ground
The runway was hidden from view.
The approach was real tight, but I squeaked in all right,
And it let me remember—I flew!
An engine that quits will sure give you the fits
And you go home on one and not two.
You just feather the prop and hope it will stop,
And let me remember—I flew!
Some day when I meet and I greet Old St. Pete
I hope he will let me slip through.
I know he will grin and bid me come in
Because he will know that—I flew!
Joe Seward
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