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 you 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 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;
Unable its own weight to bear,
It flutter’d downward through the air:
Unable its own course to guide,
The winds soon plunged it in the tide.
Ah! foolish kite, thou hadst no wing,
How couldst 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 the lines,
Thy wisdom for my lot assigns,
How oft indulged a vain desire
For something more, or something higher;
And but for grace and love divine,
A fall thus dreadful had been mine.”
Olney Hymns.
ML-11/17/1974