Once on a time a paper kite
Was mounted to a wondrous height,
Where, giddy with its elevation,
It thus expressed self-admiration:
“See how yon crowds of gazing people
Admire my flight above the steeple:
How would they wonder of 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 prisoner bound,
My string confines me near the ground.
I’d brave the eagle’s towering wing
Might I but fly without a string.”
It tugged and pulled while thus it spoke,
To break the string-at last it broke!
Deprived at once of all its stay,
In vain it tried to soar away;
Unalbe its own weight ot bear,
It fluttered downward through the air; Unable its own course to guide,
The winds soon plunged it in the tide.
Ah, foolish kite! Thou had’st no wing;
How could’st thou fly without a string?
My heart replied, “O Lord, I see
How much this kite resembles me!
Forgetful that by Thee I stand,
Impatient of Thy ruling hand,
How oft I’ve wished to break Thy ruling hand,
For something more or something higher!
And, but for grace and love divine,
A fall thus dreadful had been mine.”