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Poetry Classics: The Fly, By William Blake

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.

fly wallpaper 2.jpg

If you enjoyed this, you should check out some of these other classic poems!

Poetry Classics: Life, By George Herbert

Poetry Classics: If, By Rudyard Kipling

Poetry Classics: I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, By Maya Angelou

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