it is addressed thusly:
A thought.
it reads:
Even the flighted are bound to earth
Though when we see the birds aloft
And each cloud with countenance soft
We think of what wings were worth
As though the kite in its own way
Did not in that narrow band but stay
Whose hollow body and hollow bones
Did not all the more draw it there
Did not festoon it to inconstant air
To hear and know deep heaven's groans
For the sky complete is more than deep
It is high and wide and cold and far
And no bird can cross from star to star
But must to his own orbit keep
So just to fly - what is it really worth
When even the flighted are bound to earth?

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