“Farewell, farewell! to each rich-brimming chalice,
At Windsor beside me so constantly seen—
Farewell to the dear, daily feeds at the Palace—
The romps with the Baroness, chats with the Queen.
Farewell! ’tis with tears that, while falling will blister,
I weep for the mesh in which we are all caught;
Alas! for poor Lehzen with none to assist her,
They’ll never be able to work out the plot.”
A little earlier some satirical paper announced of the Prime Minister that, when compelled to remain in the House of Lords till late in the evening, “the pet lamb had a nice tit-bit sent express from the Royal table, with a particular request to cut the matter as short as possible and hurry ‘to where the glasses sparkle on the board!’” adding, “We believe Melbourne generally manages to comply, and, if practicable, arrives in ‘pudding time.’”
Another paragraph offered the information that: “Lord Melbourne gave a Parliamentary dinner yesterday in South Street. The Fire Brigade were all activity and we counted six engines in the immediate vicinity. The alarm was given by his lordship’s neighbours, who were extremely horrified by the sight of the chimney. Melbourne giving a dinner! Wonders will never cease!”