An Irish Airman Foresees His Death

I know that I shall meet my fate somewhere among the clouds aboveThose that I fight I do not hate, those that I guard I do not loveMy country is Kiltartan Cross, my countrymen Kiltartan's poorNo likely end could bring them loss or leave them happier than before.Nor law, nor duty bade me fight, nor public men, nor cheering crowdsA lonely impulse of delight drove to this tumult in the cloudsI balanced all, brought all to mind, the years to come seemed waste of breathA waste of breath the years behind in balance with this life, this deathA waste of breath the years behind in balance with this life, this death.