little fly

Lyrics

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?, little fly. for i dance, and drink and sing, till some blind hand, shall brush my wing, i thought is life, and strength and breath, and the want, of thought is death, little fly. then am i, a happy fly, if i live, or if i die