The Kite; Or, Pride Must Have a Fall

Once on a time a paper kite In vain it try'd to soar away;

Was mounted to a wondrous height, Unable its own weight to bear,

Where giddy with its elevation, It flutter'd downward through the air;

It thus expressed self admiration:- Unaple [Unable] its own course to guide,

"See how yon crowds of gazing people The winds soon plung'd it in the tide.

Admire my flight above the steeple; Ah! foolish kite, thou hast no wing,

How would they wonder if they knew How couldst thou fly without a string?

All that a kite like me could do! My heart reply'd 'O Lord! I see

Were I but free, I'd take a flight, How much this kite resembles me.

And pierce the clouds beyond their sight: Forgetful that by thee I stand,

But, ah! like a poor pris'ner bound, Impatient of thy ruling hand;

My string confines me near the ground: How oft I've wish'd to break the lines

I'd brave the eagle's tow'ring wing, Thy wisdom for my lost assigns!

Might I but fly without a string.' How oft indulg'd a vain desire

It tugg'd and pull'd, while thus it spoke, For something more, or something higher!

To break the string,-at last it broke, And, but for grace and love divine,

Depriv'd at once of all its stay, A fall thus dreadful had been mine.

The Times and Seasons, IS EDITED BY Joseph Smith. Printed and published about the first and fifteenth of every month, on the corner of Water and Bain Streets, Nauvoo, Hancock County, Illinois, by JOSEPH SMITH.

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