Lyr. Add: THE FLEA

"A comic parody of the Sea

The Flea! The Flea! the hopping flea,
The teasing, biting, blackguard Flea;
I'm full of marks, I dare be bound,
Since o'er my back he's running around;
He plagues the skin, and makes it rise,
Or like a sneaking thing he lies.
I've got a flea! I've got a flea!
He is where I won't let him be;
With his nipping above, and nipping below,
That I have no peace where'er I go;
If a swarm should come, and on me creep,
Och, murther, och, murther, the devil a wink I sleep.

I hate, I hate- och fait! I can't abide,
A suit of clothes with fleas inside,-
At every bite you'd thump the moon,-
Or if you're whistling,- stop your tune;
Which telleth the world that you are sick,
And make you wish they'd cut their stick;
I never was on a dirty floor,
But fleas flew on me more and more;
Then home I'd run to change my best,
Like a partridge seeketh his mother's nest,
And my mother swears 'tis fate's decree,
That I was born to be plagued by a flea.

The sky was clear and hot the morn,
In the noisy hour when I was born;
The pig it whistled, the donkey rowl'd,
My father danc'd, the nurse she howl'd;
Och, fire and murther, och, I'll go wild,
See there's a flea upon the child.
I've lived since then in care and strife,
Full fifty years a scratching life!
And though, to shift the scene, I'd range,
I never yet could get a change;
I'd rather death should come to me,
Than thus be plagued with a vile confounded flea.

Ordoyno, Printer, Nottingham. Ballads Catalogue, Harding B25(660), c. 1814-1844, Bodleian Library, Oxford, also Harding B (17(96b). Bodley Search
For some reason, I had to Browse (display) under flea rather than Search.
Also printed by Jackson in Birmingham and others.