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The Fly

    (A poem by William Blake)

    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.

    William Blake - read poems online

    William Blake was an English poet, painter, and printmaker whose work is today considered seminal and significant in the history of both poetry and the visual arts. Read more of his writings here.

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