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Wednesday, May 9, 2001

The Fly

Rating: 3.3
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.
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COMMENTS
Solomon Senxer 14 September 2019
Is Blake a philosopher? So enjoying to read this one!
0 0 Reply
Indira Renganathan 30 November 2016
Very enjoyable...what though we live or die...be like a fly is a happy content....like a lot
3 0 Reply
Walterrean Salley 05 August 2012
A perky little piec written with compassion. Blake had a right to be a happy fly, for he did not want for though. Enjoyed this immensely.
22 14 Reply

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