By Thomas Moore
Carlton Terrace, 1832.
Whereas, Lord ---- de ----
Left his home last Saturday,
And, tho' inquired for round and round
Thro' certain purlieus, can't be found;
And whereas, none can solve our queries
As to where this virtuous Peer is,
Notice is hereby given that all
May forthwith to inquiring fall,
As, once the thing's well set about,
No doubt but we shall hunt him out.
His Lordship's mind, of late, they say,
Hath been in an uneasy way,
Himself and colleagues not being let
To climb into the Cabinet,
To settle England's state affairs,
Hath much, it seems, unsettled theirs;
And chief to this stray Plenipo
Hath been a most distressing blow.
Already,-certain to receive a
Well-paid mission to the Neva,
And be the bearer of kind words
To tyrant Nick from Tory Lords,-
To fit himself for free discussion,
His Lordship had been learning Russian;
And all so natural to him were
The accents of the Northern bear,
That while his tones were in your ear, you
Might swear you were in sweet Siberia.
And still, poor Peer, to old and young,
He goes on raving in that tongue;
Tells you how much you would enjoy a
Trip to Dalnodubrovrkoya;
Talks of such places by the score on
And swears (for he at nothing sticks)
That Russia swarms with Raskolniks,
Tho' one such Nick, God knows, must be
A more than ample quantity.
Such are the marks by which to know
This strayed or stolen Plenipo;
And whosoever brings or sends
The unhappy statesman to his friends
On Carlton Terrace, shall have thanks,
And--any paper but the Bank's.
P.S.--Some think the disappearance
Of this our diplomatic Peer hence
Is for the purpose of reviewing,
In person, what dear Mig is doing,
So as to 'scape all tell-tale letters
'Bout Beresford, and such abetters,--
The only "wretches" for whose aid
Letters seem not to have been made.