---

William Blake - The Fly
Work rating: Medium

	Little Fly,
	Thy summer`s play
	My thoughtless hand
	Has brushed away.

	Am not I
	A fly like thee?
	Or art not thou
	A man like me?

	For I dance
	And drink, and sing,
	Till some blind hand
	Shall brush my wing.

	If thought is life
	And strength and breath
	And the want
	Of thought is death;

	Then am I
	A happy fly,
	If I live,
	Or if I die.
Source
The script ran 0.001 seconds.