 Advice to the Grub Street verse writers by Jonathan Swift, read for LibriVox.org by Ed Mead. You poets ragged and forlorn, down from your garret's haste, you rhymers dead as soon as born, not yet consigned to paste. I know a trick to make you thrive, which is a quaint device. Your stillborn poem shall revive and scorn to wrap up spice. Get all your verses printed fair, then let them well be dried, and curl must have a special care to leave the margin wide. Lend these two papers sparing pope, and when he sets to write, no letter with an envelope could give him more delight. When pope has filled the margins round, why then recall you alone, sew them to curl for fifty pound, and swear they are your own. Advice to the Grub Street verse writers by Jonathan Swift, read for LibriVox.org by Great Plains. You poets ragged and forlorn, down from your garret's haste, you rhymers dead as soon as born, not yet consigned to paste. I know a trick to make you thrive, oh, tis a quaint device. Your stillborn poem shall revive and scorn to wrap up spice. Get all your verses printed fair, then let them well be dried, and curl must have a special care to leave the margin wide. Lend these two papers sparing pope, and when he sets to write, no letter with an envelope could give him more delight. When pope has filled the margins round, why then recall you alone, sell them to curl for fifty pound, and swear they are your own. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Advice to the Grub Street verse writers by Jonathan Swift, read for LibriVox.org by J. C. Kwan, Montreal, February 2008. You poets ragged and forlorn, down from your garret's haste, you rhymers dead as soon as born, not yet consigned to paste. I know a trick to make you thrive, oh, tis a quaint device. Your stillborn poems shall revive and scorn to wrap up spice. Get all your verses printed fair, then let them well be dried, and curl must have a special care to leave the margin wide. Lend these two papers sparing pope, and when he sets to write, no letter with an envelope could give him more delight. When pope has filled the margins round, why then recall you alone, sell them to curl for fifty pound, and swear they are your own. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Advice to the Grub Street verse writers by Jonathan Swift, read for LibriVox.org by J. C. Kwan. You poets ragged and forlorn, down from your garret's haste, you rhymers dead as soon as born, not yet consigned to paste. I know a trick to make you thrive, oh, tis a quaint device. Your stillborn poems shall revive and scorn to wrap up spice. Get all your verses printed fair, then let them well be dried, and curl must have a special care to leave the margin wide. Lend these two papers sparing pope, and when he sets to write, no letter with an envelope could give him more delight. When pope has filled the margins round, why then recall you alone, sell them to curl for fifty pound, and swear they are your own. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Advice to the Grub Street verse writers by Jonathan Swift, read for LibriVox.org by J. C. Kwan. You poets ragged and forlorn, down from your garret's haste, you rhymers dead as soon as born, not yet consigned to paste. I know a trick to make you thrive, oh, tis a quaint device. Your stillborn poems shall revive and scorn to wrap up spice. Get all your verses printed fair, then let them well be dried, and curl 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 filled the margins round, why then recall you alone, sell them to curl for fifty pound, and swear they are your own. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Advice to the Grub Street verse writers by Jonathan Swift, read for LibriVox.org by Lisa Ash, Folly Beach, South Carolina. You poets ragged and forlorn, down from your garret's haste, you rhymers dead as soon as born, not yet consigned to paste. I know a trick to make you thrive, oh, tis a quaint device. Your stillborn poems shall revive and scorn to wrap up spice. Get all your verses printed fair, then let them well be dried, and curl 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 filled the margins round, why then recall you alone, sell them to curl for fifty pound, and swear they are your own. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Advice to the Grub Street verse writers by Jonathan Swift, read from Braille for LibriVox.org by Merrill in western New York, March 2008. You poets ragged and forlorn, down from your garret's haste, you rhymers dead as soon as born, not yet consigned to paste. I know a trick to make you thrive, oh, tis a quaint device. Your stillborn poems shall revive and scorn to wrap up spice. Get all your verses printed fair, then let them well be dried, and curl 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 filled the margins round, why then recall you alone, sell them to curl for fifty pound, and swear they are your own. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Advice to the Grub Street verse writers by Jonathan Swift, read for LibriVox.org by Mike Love. You poets ragged and forlorn, down from your garret's haste, you rhymers dead as soon as born, not yet consigned to paste. I know a trick to make you thrive, oh, tis a quaint device. Your stillborn poems shall revive and scorn to wrap up spice. Get all your verses printed fair, then let them well be dried, and curl 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 filled the margins round, why then recall you alone, sell them to curl for fifty pound, and swear they are your own. End of poem. This recording is in the public domain. Advice to the Grub Street verse writers by Jonathan Swift, read for LibriVox.org by Rhonda Fetterman. You poets ragged and forlorn, down from your garret's haste, you rhymers dead as soon as born, not yet consigned to paste. I know a trick to make you thrive, oh, tis a quaint device. Your stillborn poems shall revive and scorn to wrap up spice. Get all your verses printed fair, then let them well be dried, and curl 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 filled the margins round, why then recall you alone, sell them to curl for fifty pound, and swear they are your own. End of poem.