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. 

Added: May 20 2005 | Viewed: 464 times | Comments (0)

Poet: Jonathan Swift
Poem: Advice to the Grub Street Verse-writers

There are no comments for this poem. Why not be the first one to post something about it?

Are you looking for more information on this poem? Perhaps you are trying to analyze it? The poem, Advice to the Grub Street Verse-writers, has not yet been commented on. You can click here to be the first to post a comment about it. Of course you can also always discuss poems by Jonathan Swift with others on the Poetry Connection poetry forum!