The Works of the Rev. Jonathan Swift/Volume 17/Verses to Bernard Lintot's New Miscellany
SOME Colinæus[2] praise, some Bleau[2],
Others account them but so so;
Some Plantin to the rest prefer,
And some esteem old Elzevir[2];
Others with Aldus[3] would besot us;
I, for my part, admire Lintottus. —
His character's beyond compare,
Like his own person, large and fair.
They print their names in letters small.
But LINTOT stands in capital:
Author and he with equal grace
Appear, and stare you in the face.
Stephens prints heathen Greek, 'tis said,
Which some can't construe, some can't read:
But all that comes from Lintot's hand
Ev'n Rawlinson might understand.
Oft in an Aldus or a Plantin,
A page is blotted, or leaf wanting:
Of Lintot's books this can't be said,
All fair, and not so much as read.
Their copy cost 'em not a penny
To Homer, Virgil, or to any;
They ne'er gave sixpence for two lines
To them, their heirs, or their assigns:
But Lintot is at vast expense,
And pays prodigious dear for — sense.
Their books are useful but to few,
A scholar, or a wit or two:
Lintot's for gen'ral use are fit;
For some folks read, but all folks sh—.