Oh Father--
fashion for me some thing found in dreams
that I may rise above this ponderous earth
past plumes of clouds and summer streams
past places renowned, far from the sound
of the city's sleepless mirth

Let me soar where airy creature
had never dreamt nor dwelt
beyond silent skies, heaven-built
where lofty angels knelt

Let my soul, unshackled, fancy-free
roam in realms of noble lore
to catch the boundless starry light
which none had felt before

And, oh-- to touch such regal heights
with childlike eyes and yours so wise
though wings as these might melt away
you've bestowed to me this night--
be not sad, my father...
for I owe you the glory of flight

By J. Philip Fraccalvieri, III