Kite Poem - by John Newton
The Kite Once upon a time a paper kite Was mounted to a wondrous height, Where, giddy with its elevation, It thus express'd self-admiration: "See how yon crowds of gazing people Admire my flight above the steeple; How would they wonder if they knew All that a kite like me can do! Were I but free, I'd take a flight, And pierce the clouds beyond their sight, But, ah! like a poor pris'ner bound, My string confines me near the ground; I'd brave the eagle's tow'ring wing, Might I but fly without a string." It tugg'd and pull'd, while thus it spoke, To break the string-at last it broke. Depriv'd at once of all its stay, In vain it try'd to soar away; Unable its own weight to bear, It flutter'd downward through the air; Unable its own course to guide, The winds soon plung'd it in the tide. Ah, foolish kite, thou hadst no wing, How coudst thou fly without a string! My heart reply'd, "O Lord, I see How much this...
