The Flea by John Dunn, read for Libbybox.org by Jacob Martinez. Mark with this Flea and Mark in this, how little that which thou denyest me is. Me it sucked first, and now it sucks thee, and in this Flea our true bloods mingled be. Thou knowest that this cannot be said, a sin, a shame, or loss of maidenhead.
If this enjoys before it woo, and peppered swells with one blood made of two, and this alas is more than we would do. O stay, three lives in one Flea's spare, where we almost nay, more than married are. This flea is you and I, and this are marriage bed and marriage temple is. Though parents grudge and you we are met, and cloistered in these living walls of jet.
Though use make you apt to kill me, let not to that self murder added be, and sacrilege threest sins in killing three. Cruel and sudden has thou since, purpled by nay, all in blood of innocence, wherein could this flea guilty be, except in that job which it sucked from thee. Yet thou triumphs, dentsace, that thou findst, not thyself nor me the weaker now. Just true, then learn how false fears be.
There's so much honour when thou yields to me, will waste, as this flea's death took life from the end of poem. This recording is in the public domain.