University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
The Works of Hildebrand Jacob

... Containing Poems on Various Subjects, and Occasions; With the Fatal Constancy, a Tragedy; and Several Pieces in Prose. The Greatest Part Never Before Publish'd
  

collapse section 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
collapse section 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
collapse section 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
collapse section 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 VII. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
 X. 
collapse section 
  
  
  
  
  
  
collapse section 
 I. 
TALE I. Apollo 's Stratagem:
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 VII. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
collapse section 
  
  
  
  
  
  
collapse section 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 VII. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
collapse section 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
collapse section 
  
collapse section 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
collapse section 
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
collapse section 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 VII. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
 X. 
 XI. 
 XII. 
 XIII. 
 XIV. 
 XV. 
 XVI. 
 XVII. 
 XVIII. 
 XIX. 
 XX. 
 XXI. 
 XXII. 
 XXIII. 
 XXIV. 
 XXV. 
 XXVI. 
 XXVII. 
 XXVIII. 
 XXIX. 
 XXX. 
 XXXI. 
 XXXII. 
 XXXIII. 
 XXXIV. 
collapse section 
collapse section 
  
collapse sectionI. 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
collapse sectionII. 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
collapse sectionIII. 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
collapse sectionIV. 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
collapse sectionV. 
 I. 
 II. 
 III. 
 IV. 
 V. 
 VI. 
 VII. 
 VIII. 
 IX. 
  
collapse section 
  
  
  
  

TALE I. Apollo 's Stratagem:

or BUTTON Unmasqued.

In nova fert animus mutatas dicere formas
Corpora—
Ovid. Metam

Apollo , kindly looking down
On Wit's Decay in this dull Town,
Its further Ruin to prevent,
Resolv'd on this Expedient.
To Him he call'd an Emissary,
Whom he employ'd to fetch, and carry;

72

A lackquay Spirit, sent sometimes
To costive Bards to whisper Rhimes,
To ease desponding Sonneteer,
Or twitch Lampooner by the Ear.
Fantome, said he, you've now a Task,
Which does no little Labour ask;
'Twill try your Skill, and Duty, more
Than all your Errands heretofore:
Know, I intend to make you Warden
Of all the Wits of Covent-Garden,
And, by that means, to give new Birth
To Ingenuity on Earth.
Haste then, unto your Ward repair;
Assume some heavy Mortal's Air;
Let your pretended Business be
Retailing Coffee, Snuff, and Tea:
Tuck a blue Apron by your Side;
Pots, Cups, and Kettles strait provide,
With all your necessary Ware;
Put leave their filling to my Care.

73

Your Water daily will I bring
From Helicon's inspiring Spring;
Bards shall no sooner taste, but Sing.
From thence e'en Ideots shall grow wise,
And they who scarce cou'd Spell, shall rise
At once, to Write, and Criticise.
Dunces shall lay out Tragic Plots,
And Comedies be penn'd by Sots.
Songs, Madrigals, and all that Train
Of lesser Infants of the Brain,
Spontaneously from every Head
Shall spring, like Flies on Dunghills bred.
All who are Wits, or wou'd be so,
To taste your wond'rous Springs will go,
And I shall be rever'd below.
Let Button be your Earthly Name;
Button's shall be Apollo's Fane.
 

When this was first publish'd, Button's Coffee-House, near Covent-Garden, was famous for the Resort of the Wits of the Town.