Twas but a fly perhaps you'll say,
That's born in April, dies in May;
That does but just learn to display
His wings one minute,
And in the next is vanish'd quite.
A bird devours it in his flight —
Or come a cold blast in the night,
There's no breath in it.
The bird but seeks his proper food —
And Providence, whose power endu'd
That fly with life, when it thinks good,
May justly take it.
But you have no excuses for't —
A life by Nature made so short,
Less reason is that you for sport
Should shorter make it.
A fly a little thing you rate —
But, Robert do not estimate
A creature's pain by small or great;
There is no excuse to kill a fly because it only survives for a short period of time. It’s selfish to kill the fly because the only reason you are killing that fly is because it annoy’d you or you’re doing it for fun and games.
Thoughtless Cruelty