Advice to the Grub Street Verse-writers
Ye poets ragged and forlorn,
Down from your garrets haste;
Ye rhymers, dead as soon as born,
Not yet consign'd to paste;
I know a trick to make you thrive;
O, 'tis a quaint device:
Your still-born poems shall revive,
And scorn to wrap up spice.
Get all your verses printed fair,
Then let them well be dried;
And Curll must have a special care
To leave the margin wide.
Lend these to paper-sparing Pope;
And when he sets to write,
No letter with an envelope
Could give him more delight.
When Pope has fill'd the margins round,
Why then recall your loan;
Sell them to Curll for fifty pound,
And swear they are your own.
Jonathan Swift's Other Poems
Read poems about / on: poem
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Advice to the Grub Street Verse-writers by Jonathan Swift )
- Uyakhumbula, senzokhaya umhayi
- Wedwa, senzokhaya umhayi
- time or space?, ko the skipper
- The Truth Are From The Laws, Edward Kofi Louis
- The Sadness Of This World, Edward Kofi Louis
- I Could Be Out In The Rain, Vigna Mukund
- Equations: Friend Or Enemy, Guess Who
- Waiting for Dawn, Somanathan Iyer
- Confidence, Somanathan Iyer
- Doodling Without Purpose, Margaret Alice Second