The Poetry Corner

Corinna,[1] A Ballad

By Jonathan Swift

1711-12 This day (the year I dare not tell) Apollo play'd the midwife's part; Into the world Corinna fell, And he endued her with his art. But Cupid with a Satyr comes; Both softly to the cradle creep; Both stroke her hands, and rub her gums, While the poor child lay fast asleep. Then Cupid thus: "This little maid Of love shall always speak and write;" "And I pronounce," the Satyr said, "The world shall feel her scratch and bite." Her talent she display'd betimes; For in a few revolving moons, She seem'd to laugh and squall in rhymes, And all her gestures were lampoons. At six years old, the subtle jade Stole to the pantry-door, and found The butler with my lady's maid: And you may swear the tale went round. She made a song, how little miss Was kiss'd and slobber'd by a lad: And how, when master went to p - , Miss came, and peep'd at all he had. At twelve, a wit and a coquette; Marries for love, half whore, half wife; Cuckolds, elopes, and runs in debt; Turns authoress, and is Curll's for life. Her common-place book all gallant is, Of scandal now a cornucopia; She pours it out in Atalantis Or memoirs of the New Utopia.