Large_Al
02-04-2003, 05:53 PM
My Daughter had her band concert last week I think it was. Her Junior High did a combined concert with the Senior High. What I found interesting was that the evening was filled with selects from symphonies that were War or Military related.
One such selection was "Where never a Lark or Eagle flew"
A young girl read the poem and then they played the peace. It was very moving when they did it. I have loved that poem ever since "The Gipper" used it. With the current event's it means even more now.
If has been posted recently forgive me.
<font color="Green"> Where Never a Lark or Eagle flew </font>
<font color="blue">
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 sanctitiy of space
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
By John Gillespie Magee Jr
</font>
One such selection was "Where never a Lark or Eagle flew"
A young girl read the poem and then they played the peace. It was very moving when they did it. I have loved that poem ever since "The Gipper" used it. With the current event's it means even more now.
If has been posted recently forgive me.
<font color="Green"> Where Never a Lark or Eagle flew </font>
<font color="blue">
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 sanctitiy of space
Put out my hand, and touched the face of God.
By John Gillespie Magee Jr
</font>