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.
Then am I a happy fly,
If I live, or if I die.
Then am I a happy fly,
If I live, or if I die.
Then am I a happy fly,
If I live, or if I die.

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.
Then am I a happy fly,
If I live, or if I die.
Then am I a happy fly,
If I live, or if I die.
Then am I a happy fly,
If I live, or if I die.