Poems (Gould, 1833)/The Lost Kite

For works with similar titles, see The Lost Kite.
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THE LOST KITE.
'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 goThat naughty string, would bring so lowMy pretty, buoyant, darling kite,To pass forever 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 lightUpon its edge, so soft and bright;To see how noble, high and proudShe 'd look, while riding on a cloud!
'As near her shining mark she drew,I clapped my hands; the line slipped throughMy silly fingers; and she flew,Away! away! in airy play,Right over where the water lay!She veered and fluttered, swung and gaveA plunge, then vanished with the wave!
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'I never more shall want to lookOn that false cloud, or babbling brook;Nor e'er to feel the breeze that tookMy dearest joy, to thus destroyThe pastime of your happy boy.My kite! my kite! how sad to thinkShe 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 throughMy 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!"
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