Kite :

I often sit and wish that I,

Could be a kite up in the sky.

And ride upon the breeze and go,

Whatever way I chanced to blow.

Then I could look beyond the town,

And see the river winding down.

And follow all the ships that sail,

Like me, before the merry gale.

Until at last with them I came,

To some place with a foreign name.

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