| John Donne (1572–1631). The Poems of John Donne. 1896. | | | | Appendix A. Doubtful Poems | | On a Flea on his Mistress’s Bosom |
| | | MADAM, that flea which crept between your breasts | |
| I envied, that there he should make his rest; | |
| The little creature’s fortune was so good | |
| That angels feed not on so precious food. | |
| How it did suck, how eager tickle you! | 5 |
| —Madam, shall fleas before me tickle you?— | |
| O! I not hold can; pardon if I killed it; | |
| —Sweet blood, to you I ask this—that which filled it | |
| Ran from my lady’s breast. Come, happy flea, | |
| That died for sucking of that milky sea. | 10 |
| O! now again I could e’en wish thee there, | |
| About her heart, about her anywhere; | |
| I would now (dear flea) that thou shouldst not die, | |
| If thou couldst suck from her her cruelty. | | | | |
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