a Late Scene At Swanage.
regnis EX sul ademptis.–Verg. 1827.
To Swanage–that neat little town in whose bay
Fair Thetis shows off in her best silver slippers–
Lord Bags took his annual trip t’other day,
To taste the sea breezes and chat with the dippers.
There–learned as he is in conundrums and laws–
Quoth he to his dame (whom he oft plays the wag on),
“Why are chancery suitors like bathers?”–“Because
Their suits are put off, till they haven’t a rag on.”
Thus on he went chatting–but, lo! while he chats,
With a face full of wonder around him he looks;
For he misses his parsons, his dear shovel hats,
Who used to flock round him at Swanage like rooks.
“How is this, Lady Bags?–to this region aquatic
“Last year they came swarming to make me their bow,
“As thick as Burke’s cloud o’er the vales of Carnatic,
“Deans, Rectors, D.D.’s–where the devil are they now?”
“My dearest Lord Bags!” saith his dame, “can you doubt?
“I am loath to remind you of things so unpleasant;
“But don’t you perceive, dear, the Church have found out
“That you’re one of the people called Ex’s, at present?”
“Ah, true–you have hit it–I am, indeed, one
“Of those ill-fated Ex’s (his Lordship replies),
“And with tears, I confess–God forgive me the pun!–
“We X’s have proved ourselves not to be Y’s.”
 A small bathing-place on the coast of Dorsetshire, long a favorite summer resort of the ex-nobleman in question and, till this season, much frequented also by gentlemen of the church.
 The Lord Chancellor Eldon.