I saw the brilliant bug weeping
And his sad watch keeping,
Alas, Alas, Ah me! 
Over the Noble Flea. 
Then the green Palm tree,
Wept over the noble flea. 
Said he, The flea is dead! 
And all his branches shed! 
The Shaggy Wolf he strayed,
To rest in the Palm tree’s shade
He saw the branches broken,
Of deepest grief the token,
And said, Oh Palm tree green,
What sorrow have you seen? 
What noble one is dead,
That you your branches shed? 
He said, O Wolf so shaggy,
Living in rocks so craggy,
I saw the glossy raven,
Looking forlorn and craven,
Dropping down a feather,
Like snow in winter weather. 
He saw the brilliant bug weeping
And his sad watch keeping,
Alas, Alas, Ah me! 
Over the Noble Flea! 
Then the Wolf in despair
Shed his shaggy hair. 
Then the River clear and shining,
Saw the wolf in sorrow pining,
Asked him why in sad despair,
He had shed his shaggy hair? 
Said the Wolf, Oh River shining,
I in sorrow deep am pining,
For the Palm tree I have seen,
Shedding all his branches green,
And he saw the glossy raven,
Looking so forlorn and craven,
As he dropped a downy feather,
Like the snow in winter weather. 
He saw the brilliant bug weeping,
And his sad watch keeping,
Alas, Alas, Ah me,
Over the Noble Flea! 
Sadly then the shining River,
Dried its waters up forever. 
Then the Shepherd with his sheep
Asked the River once so deep,
What great grief, oh shining river,
Dried your waters up forever? 
Said the River once so shining,
I in sorrow deep am pining,
Since I saw the wolf’s despair,
When he shed his shaggy hair,
For the Palm tree he had seen,
Shedding all his branches green,
And he saw the glossy raven,
Looking so forlorn and craven,
As he dropped a downy feather,
Like the snow in winter weather,
He saw the brilliant bug weeping,
And his sad watch keeping. 
Alas, Alas, Ah me! 
Over the Noble Flea! 
Then the Shepherd in sorrow deep,
Tore the horns from all his sheep,
Sadly bound them on his head,
Since he heard the flea was dead. 
Then the Shepherd’s mother dear,
Asked him why in desert drear,
He had torn in sorrow deep,
All the horns from all his sheep,
Sadly bound them on his head,
Just as though a friend was dead? 
Said he, ’tis because the River,
Dried his waters up forever,
Since he saw the Wolf’s despair,
When he shed his shaggy hair. 
For the Palm tree he had seen,
Shedding all his branches green,
For he saw the glossy raven,
Looking so forlorn and craven,
As he dropped a downy feather,
Like the snow in winter weather. 
He saw the brilliant bug weeping,
And his sad watch keeping,
Alas, Alas, Ah me! 
Over the Noble Flea! 
Mother sad began to cry,
Thrust her needle in her eye;
Could no longer see her thread,
Since she heard the flea was dead. 
Then the Father grave and bland,
Hearing this, cut off his hand;
And the daughter, when she hears,
In despair, cuts off her ears;
And through the town deep grief is spread,
Because they heard the flea was dead.