There is a noted airman
Who is a flying fool.
He said, “I’ll go to New York
And hop across the pool.”

The folks all thought him crazy,
They strove to change his mind.
But he just grit his ivories,
Said his business he could mind.

He got enough mazuma,
And had an airplane built.
It had one seat and it could step.
The wing was spanned with silk.

He flew across the continent,
And landed in New York.
He told them what he planned to do
And said it would be sport.

At dawn twelve hours later,
The plane took off in rain.
The unknown youth and plane began,
Their thrilling flight to fame.

For three and thirty hours,
That man an plane were gone,
The nation grieved the loss of one
Who in these bounds was born.

While his loved ones grieved behind hime,
That one “lone eagle” flew,
Through rain and calm and storm and wind
He strove to cross the blue.

At last in French Le Bourget
A motor hum was heard.
And down through space with graceful ease
A plane flew like a bird.

It circled twice above the field,
While thousands cheered a welcome.
And then with swanlike gracefulness,
It soared down from the welkin.

As Lindy opened the cockpit door
His face lit up with cheer.
The words he spoke will long be quote,
He said, “Well, we are here.”

Another son of Uncle Sam,
Had proved his worth a-plenty,
It took a boy to turn the trick,
A youth not five and twenty.

William Day, ’29