VALHALLA
By Dinsmore Ely
This poem written a few days before Lieutenant Ely’s death was dedicated by him “To My Comrades of the French Escadrille, the Fighting Eagles of France; How They Fought and How They Died.”
Day breaks with sun on the bosom of spring.
Motors are humming, the pilot shall fly today.
Mists clear and find him regarding his bird of prey.
With crashing roar and whirr, three airmen mount the sky.
Cael, tall, and gaunt, eyes of hawk, seeing far;
Parcontal, thrice an ace, steady aim, deadly fire;
Devil Le Claire, quick as light, wheeling like lark at play—
Three grow dim, turn to specks, lost in the morning sky.