Lyric Poem · Death & Loss
The Fly
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.
This poem is in the public domain.
“The Fly” by William Blake — quilloak.com/poems/the-fly
Keep reading
Annabel Lee
Edgar Allan Poe · 1849
It was many and many a year ago,In a kingdom by the sea,That a maiden there lived whom you may know
41 lines · ballad
Remember
Christina Rossetti · 1862
Remember me when I am gone away,Gone far away into the silent land;When you can no more hold me by the hand,
14 lines · sonnet
When I Am Dead, My Dearest (Song)
Christina Rossetti · 1862
When I am dead, my dearest,Sing no sad songs for me;Plant thou no roses at my head,
16 lines · lyric