⚜ A Poem selected from Songs of Experience ⚜

The Fly

LITTLE Fly,
Thy summer's play
My thoughtless hand
Has brush'd away.

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

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

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

Then am I
A happy fly,
If I live
Or if I die.


⚜ William Blake (1757-1827) ⚜

"The Fly" analysed... (🧐the analysis starts at 1:17)


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