Work Text:
Age does not wither truth, nor time decay
The dreams that live deep-rooted in the heart;
The stars that beckon children to outstay
Their parent's bedtimes set us yet apart,
And we would fly out past that narrow scope -
Like Grissom, Glenn and Armstrong we would go.
'Tis not our present age that deadens hope,
But timid vision, creeping meek and low.
Make wings of wax, of steel and sand and gold;
Sinews make of fire - bright limbs to reach high
And catch the light, to stretch out hands and hold
The wonder of what lies behind the sky.
Now let us dream by day, leap from this sod
And go beyond the paths those heroes trod.