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Wilbur Wright and Orville Wright By: Stephen Vincent Benet Said Orville Wright to Wilbur Wright. ―These birds are very trying. I’m sick of hearing them cheep-cheep About the fun of flying. A bird has feathers, it is true. That much I freely grant. But must that stop us, W?‖
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Wilbur Wright and Orville Wright By: Stephen Vincent Benet Said Orville Wright to Wilbur Wright. ―These birds are very trying. I’m sick of hearing them cheep-cheep About the fun of flying. A bird has feathers, it is true. That much I freely grant. But must that stop us, W?‖ Said Wilbur Wright, ―It shan’t.‖ And so they build a glider, first, And then they built another. – There never were two brothers more Devoted to each other. They ran a dusty little shop For bicycle-repairing. And bought each other soda-pop And praised each other’s daring. They glided here, they glided there, They sometimes skinned their noses. – For learning how to rule the air Was not a bed of roses – But each would murmur, afterward, While patching up his bro. ―Are we discouraged, W?‖ ―Of course we are not, O!‖ And finally, at Kitty Hawk In Nineteen-Three (let’s cheer it!), The first real airplane really flew With Orville there to steer it! – And kingdoms may forget their kings And dogs forget their bites, But not till Man forgets his wings Will men forget the Wrights.
I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings The free bird leapson the back of the windand floats downstreamtill the current endsand dips his wingsin the orange sun raysand dares to claim the sky.But a bird that stalksdown his narrow cagecan seldom see throughhis bars of ragehis wings are clipped andhis feet are tiedso he opens his throat to sing.The caged bird singswith fearful trillof the things unknownbut longed for stilland is tune is heardon the distant hill for the caged birdsings of freedom The free bird thinks of another breezean the trade winds soft through the sighing treesand the fat worms waiting on a dawn-bright lawnand he names the sky his own.But a caged bird stands on the grave of dreamshis shadow shouts on a nightmare screamhis wings are clipped and his feet are tiedso he opens his throat to singThe caged bird singswith a fearful trillof things unknownbut longed for stilland his tune is heardon the distant hillfor the caged birdsings of freedom.
