The Washington herald., 1911-09-17
ROSTAND WRITES AN ODE
TO GLORY OF BIRDMEN
Famous French Poet Sings ExuItantIy Over Conquest
of the Air
of the Air.

hall 10 MIN VINO was hurled to the
ground and to him who sank into the
Hvid waveI Hail to him who was
charred aloft like a mothI Hail to him
who departed.
And whom no eye ever beheld again!
No one followed his fight. no
one saw him alight; It may be that he
scared so high, so high, so high,
Dear dead, who had fears, perhaps, lest
your fall may alarm the living, Danish
the only fear you ever knew. Man has
risen aloft! Sleep in peace!
No age was fraught with more marvels
than the age In which Man has at last
spread out the Wings, so long folded, Of
his Soul.
And thou shalt learn. Oh land oeaselessly
bent on reviling thyself, that no land,
may it praise itself and worship itself
ever so much, will be heir to more
greatness,
Than the land which. conscious OF its in
exhaustible strength, no longer consents
to weight heavily upon this earth and
would liefer soar above IL.
".
It behooves US to sing a Paean to the
Wing and to reVel in the thought that
It was ours to see Mans prime and
solemn deliverance.
o Wing! Make US free, tighten our
burdens; while lowering aloft, make US
obvious Of the ways followed by our
earthbound feet.
When he started in spite Of his fever
throbbing ankle, Bleriot taught US to
transmute q crutch, into Wing, flesh
into spirit.
Though the brood Of the future may not
deem air flight more than mere childs
play, the glory OF that adventure shall
never be dimmed.
Whatever may befaIl him who steers the
bright sails that hover above US, many
a worshipful glance will rest upon him,
which was meant for the stars.
Man knows, when he returns from the
path where no snake crawls, the worth
OF mems deeds he has judged them from
the remote depths Of the unfathomable
armament
In flying, one chuSns up the old stagnant
azure and thus gives 1t new life. Even
the azure must sometimes be TILED;
and the Wing sows the seed.
Pegasus, now dormant in every beast OF
burden, is whipped awake by the lash
OF the Wing. All things are made easier
and simpler to man, through the won
derment of man.
Woe to him who doubts when thou bring
est back to US the faith Of Halcyon
days, o Wing! Woe to him who denies,
by denying thee, the most ancient OF
our longtngs!
Hail to those shepherds who run mile
after mile in pursuit OF thee. The
flight Of the Wing Is white! the flight of
the Wing is blue! The flight Of the
Wing is cool!
No gale will sweep away like the gale
the Wing lashes, all the things Of evil
The Wing entrances US, enraptures US,
oh the call of the Wing on
the start!
Would men cry out so when through the
peace Of the sky there sails this immac-
ulate ship, unless they did feel that
Psyche incarnate was flying through
the azure
Or would women moan with love when
ever a Wing is fluttering through space.
unless this Wing made in their soul
another Wing f1utter?
Our soul, when We gaze at a Wing how
ering in the blue, Is stirred like an i'm
prisoned God who, from the recesses OF
his temple, feels another immortal fly
ing past.
You, who make spiral blades whir1 their
way into the deep sky, Ike unto one of
the wheels that Exschiel beheld-
You, the entranced, who steer under the
numberless stars a wonderful helm and
forsake the mud OF our leas for the un-
ruled and undivided armament,
Be our model, when every Man OF Us, In
his own patch of sky, will seek the
great rapture, mid the clustering gales
and the binding sunglare.
While the plains are. still shrouded in q
Iivid pail unbroken by the giimmer or
dawn, these that ride through the skies
on their death-daring quest can already
descry the Sun.
Those that ride through the skies see
daybreak long before the Sun shines for
us. Hail to the flight which. so high
in the armament, is myOteriously gtlded
by the dawn to be!
Be like unto the birds! Let your marrows
be as light as the breezes; Higher
Higher, Onward; but for you the
Heavens would have less beauty, even
as the ocean without a sail
Higher and higher onward, Pilot! Hail
to the men with an iron will Hail to
the thieves Of sacred fire that we are!
Hail to Mankind
Hail to the chained one OF yore, who
visIoned the Joy of flying IN his turn
and who, with the claws of the vulture
in his side, fastened his glance to the
wings