And our days seem as swift-and our moments more sweet With thee by my side-than the world at our feet.

One sigh of thy sorrow-one look of thy love
Shall turn me or fix, shall reward or reprove;
And the heartless may wonder at all we resign,
Thy lip shall reply not to them-but to mine.

Many of the best poetical pieces of Lord Byron, having the least amatory feeling, have been strangely distorted by his calumniators, as if applicable to the lamented circumstances of his latter life.

The foregoing verses were written more than two years previously to his marriage; and to shew how averse his Lordship was from touching in the most distant manner upon the theme which might be deemed to have a personal allusion, he requested me the morning before he last left London, either to suppress the verses entirely or to be careful in putting the date when they were originally written.

At the close of his Lordship's injunction, Mr. Leigh Hunt was announced, to whom I was for the first time introduced, and at his request I sang "O Mariamne," and this melody, both of which he was pleased to eulogize: but his Lordship again observed, "Notwith

F

standing my own partiality to the air, and the encomiums of an excellent judge, yet I must adhere to my former injunction."

Observing his Lordship's anxiety, and fully appreciating the noble feeling by which that anxiety was augmented, I acquiesced, in signifying my willingness to withhold the melody altogether from the public rather than submit him to any uneasiness. "No, Nathan," ejaculated his Lordship, "I am too great an admirer of your music to suffer a single phrase (h) of it to be lost; I insist that you publish the melody, but by attaching to it the date it will answer every purpose, and it will prevent my lying under greater obligations than are absolutely necessary for the liberal encomiums of my friends.

(h) A phrase is a short melody that expresses a musical sentence, a member of a strain, or portion of an air. A phrase is in composition what a foot is in poetry, or like the effect of a comma in punctuation. See Nathan's Essay on the History and Theory of Music, Chap. 3, page 43.

IN THE VALLEY OF WATERS.

IN the valley of waters we wept o'er the day
When the host of the stranger made Salem his prey,
And our heads on our bosoms all droopingly lay,
And our hearts were so full of the land far away.

The song they demanded in vain-it lay still

In our souls as the wind that hath died on the hill;

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They call'd for the harp-but our blood they shall spill Ere our right hand shall teach them one tone of their skill.

All stringlessly hung on the willow's sad tree,

As dead as her dead leaf those mute harps must be,
Our hands may be fettered-our tears still are free,
For our God and our glory-and Sion!-Oh thee.

The stranger in any country must be impressed with fresh ideas arising from the survey of fresh

objects; when those are of a pleasing nature the result must accord in the sequel.

The high places of Salem are here laid waste by the devastating hand of the barbarian, and the legetimate professors of the country are driven to a foreign land, but far from being elevated by the change, their joy is turned into mourning: they looked with sorrow on the rivers of Babylon, and gave vent to their feelings in a torrent of tears. The harp is suspended on the willow tree as useless in this new sphere of existence, and considering the very use of the instrument a profanation in the land of strangers, still remembering Sion.

The antiquity of music is beautifully depicted by David in many passages, but in the foregoing lines Lord Byron seems thoroughly to appreciate their force of feeling; as a proof how much he valued this passage of scripture, it will be observed that two melodies were written by his Lordship on the same subject, very different in words, but equally beautiful, and will serve as a sufficient apology for harmonizing both. (i)

That it was a theme on which his Lordship pondered with great pathos, is also finely illustrated in the following lines:

(i) See page 43.

"So Juan wept as wept the captive Jews
"By Babel's waters-still remembering Sion."

When I submitted the MS. composition of this melody to Lord Byron, he seemed surprized, and observed that the subject had already been published. I pointed out the difference of style in my arrangement of them, and likewise how his Lordship had varied the present version. He remarked that in writing two he only wished me to make a selection, "but," added he, "I must confess I give a preference to the latter, and since your music differs so widely from the former I see no reason why it should not also make its public appearance."