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Kite Poems

Table of Contents

  1. How the Little Kite Learned to Fly by Anonymous
  2. The Lost Kite by Hannah Flagg Gould
  3. The Philosopher With His Kite by Hannah Flagg Gould
  4. The Kite; Or, Pride Must Have A Fall by John Newton

  1. How the Little Kite Learned to Fly

    by Anonymous

    "I never can do it," the little kite said,
    As he looked at the others high over his head;
    "I know I should fall if I tried to fly."
    "Try," said the big kite; "only try!
    Or I fear you never will learn at all."
    But the little kite said, "I'm afraid I'll fall."

    The big kite nodded: "Ah well, goodby;
    I'm off;" and he rose toward the tranquil sky.
    Then the little kite's paper stirred at the sight,
    And trembling he shook himself free for flight.
    First whirling and frightened, then braver grown,
    Up, up he rose through the air alone,
    Till the big kite looking down could see
    The little one rising steadily.

    Then how the little kite thrilled with pride,
    As he sailed with the big kite side by side!
    While far below he could see the ground,
    And the boys like small spots moving round.
    They rested high in the quiet air,
    And only the birds and the clouds were there.
    "Oh, how happy I am!" the little kite cried,
    "And all because I was brave, and tried."

  2. The Lost Kite

    by Hannah Flagg Gould

    "My kite! my kite! I've lost my kite!
    Oh! when I saw the steady flight,
    With which she gained her lofty height,
    How could I know, that letting go
    That naughty string, would bring so low
    My pretty, buoyant, darling kite,
    To pass for ever out of sight?

    "A purple cloud was sailing by,
    With silver fringes, o'er the sky;
    And then, I thought, it seemed so nigh,
    I'd make my kite go up and light
    Upon its edge, so soft and bright;
    To see how noble, high and proud
    She'd look, while riding on a cloud!

    "As near her shining mark she drew,
    I clapped my hands; the line slipped through
    My silly fingers; and she flew,
    Away! away! in airy play,
    Right over where the water lay!
    She veered and fluttered, swung and gave
    A plunge, then vanished with the wave!

    "I never more shall want to look
    On that false cloud, or babbling brook;
    Nor e'er to feel the breeze that took
    My dearest joy, to thus destroy
    The pastime of your happy boy.
    My kite! my kite! how sad to think
    She flew so high, so soon to sink!"

    "Be this," the mother said, and smiled,
    "A lesson to thee, simple child!
    And when by fancies vain and wild,
    As that which cost the kite that's lost,
    Thy busy brain again is crossed,
    Of shining vapor then beware,
    Nor trust thy joys to fickle air!

    "I have a darling treasure, too,
    That sometimes would, by slipping through
    My guardian hands, the way pursue,
    From which, more tight than thou thy kite,
    I hold my jewel, new and bright,
    Lest he should stray without a guide,
    To drown my hopes in sorrow's tide!"

  3. The Philosopher With His Kite

    by Hannah Flagg Gould

    Flying a kite! at a childish play!
    Is FRANKLIN mad? Have his noble powers
    Of mind been crushed? Is this the way
    A wise Philosopher spends his hours?

    'I am not mad,' he calmly said,
    And gave the line to his silken kite,
    As into the regions of air she sped,
    And pulled for more, in upward flight.

    'I'm going to do what none has done,
    Since man has breathed, or the spheres have whirled;
    To show the lightning where to run,
    And to turn its point for the rising world!

    'The secret sparks, that the vapors wrap
    In their dusky folds, I'm going to bring
    Across my kite with her iron cap,
    And down to me on a hempen string.

    'Ere yonder threatening cloud shall wink,
    I'll make her carry her head so nigh
    To its sable face, she shall reach and drink
    At the fiery stream from its awful eye.

    'In truth and soberness now I aim,
    Though none before may have aimed so far,
    To lead the electric wildfire tame
    Out of the clouds, to fill my jar!

    'I'll bring a debt on the world, and such
    As the richest and greatest ne'er can pay,
    Till they for posterity do as much
    As, flying my kite, I do to-day!'

  4. The Kite; Or, Pride Must Have A Fall

    by John Newton

    My waking dreams are best conceal'd,
    Much folly, little good, they yield;
    But now and then I gain, when sleeping,
    A friendly hint that's worth the keeping.
    Lately I dreamt of ope who cried,
    "Beware of self, beware of pride;
    When you are prone to build a Babel,
    Recall to mind this little fable."

    Once on a time a paper kite
    Was mounted to a wond'rous 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 towering 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 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 plung'd 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 wish'd to break the lines
    Thy wisdom for my lot assigns?
    How oft indulg da vain desire,
    For something more or something higher?
    And, but for grace and love divine,
    A fall thus dreadful had been mine."

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