Little Fly, Thy summers play My thoughtless hand Has brushed away. Am I not 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. (William Blake)

Little Fly, Thy summers play My thoughtless hand Has brushed away. Am I not 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.

William Blake

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art blind brush dance drink fly hand man play sing thee thou till wing summers

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