An Irish Airman Foresees his Death
I know that I shall meet my fate 
Somewhere among the clouds above; 
Those that I fight I do not hate 
Those that I guard I do not love; 
My country is Kiltartan Cross,         
My countrymen Kiltartan�s poor, 
No likely end could bring them loss 
Or leave them happier than before. 
Nor law, nor duty bade me fight, 
Nor public man, nor cheering crowds,  
A lonely impulse of delight 
Drove to this tumult in the clouds; 
I balanced all, brought all to mind, 
The years to come seemed waste of breath, A waste of breath the years behind  
In balance with this life, this death.
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