Читать книгу The Complete Illuminated Books of William Blake (Unabridged - With All The Original Illustrations) - William Blake - Страница 73

Little Fly

Thy summers 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.