When Cynthia's light almost gave way to morn, And still another hurried glance would snatch, visit whilst at supper, and who, during the space of a month or thereabouts, previous to this time, had called upon him almost daily, at the apostolic palace, he took this person behind him on his mule, and proceeded to the street of the Jews, where he quitted his servant, directing him to remain there until a certain hour; when, if he did not return, he might repair to the palace. The duke then seated the person in the mask behind him, and rode, I know not waither; but in that night he was assassinated, and thrown to the river. The servant, after having been dismissed, was also assaulted and mortally wounded; and although he was attended with great care, yet such was his situation, that he could give no intelligible account of what had befallen his master. In the morning, the duke not having returned to the palace, his servants began to be alarmed; and one of them informed the pontiff of the evening excursion of his sons, and that the duke had not yet made his appearance. This gave the pope no small anxiety; but he conjectured that the duke had been attracted by some courtesan to pass the night with her, and, not choosing to quit the house in epen day, had waited till the following evening to return home. When, however, the evening arrived, and he found himself disappointed in his expectations, he became deeply afflicted, and began to make inquiries from different persons, whom he ordered to attend him for that purpose. Amongst these was a man named Giorgio Schiavoni, who, baving discharged some timber from a bark in the river, had remained on board the vessel to watch it; and being interrogated whether he had seen any one thrown into the ver on the night preceding, he replied, that he saw two men on foot, who came down the street, and looked diliFrutly about, to observe whether any person was passing. That seeing no one, they returned, and a short time afterwards two others came, and looked around in the same manser as the former: no person still appearing, they gave a to their companions, when a man came, mounted on a white horse, having behind him a dead body, the head and arms of which hung on one side, and the feet on the And instant spurr'd him into panting speed. XXV. And Kaled-Lara-Ezzelin, are gone, Alike without their monumental stone! The first, all efforts vainly strove to wean From lingering where her chieftain's blood had been. other side of the horse; the two persons on foot supporting the body, to prevent its falling. They thus proceeded to wards that part, where the filth of the city is usually dis. charged into the river, and turning the horse, with his tail towards the water, the two persons took the dead body by the arms and feet, and with all their strength flung it into the river. The person on horseback then asked if they had thrown it in; to which they replied, Signor, si (yes, Sir). He then looked towards the river, and, seeing a mantle floating on the stream, he inquired what it was that appeared black, to which they answered, it was a mantle; and one of them threw stones upon it, in consequence of which it sunk. The attendants of the pontiff then inquired from Giorgio, why he had not revealed this to the governor of the city; to which he replied, that he had seen in his time a hundred dead bodies thrown into the river at the same place, without any inquiry being made respecting them; and that he had not, therefore, considered it as a matter of any im. portance. The fishermen and seamen were then collected, and ordered to search the river, where, on the following evening, they found the body of the duke, with his habit entire, and thirty ducats in his purse. He was pierced with nine wounds, one of which was in his throat, the others in his head, body, and limbs. No sooner was the pontiff informed of the death of his son, and that he had been thrown, like filth, into the river, than, giving way to his grief, he shut himself up in a chamber, and wept bitterly. The Cardinal of Segovio, and other attendants on the pope, went to the door, and, after many hours spent in persuasions and exhortations, prevailed upon him to admit them. From the evening of Wednesday till the following Saturday the pope took no food; nor did he sleep from Thursday morning till the same hour on the ensuing day. At length, however, giving way to the entreaties of his attendants, he began to restrain his sorrow, and to consider the injury which his own health might sustain, by the further indulgence of his grief."-Roscoe's Leo Tenth, vol. i. p. 265. Herself would question, and for him reply; (1) "Lara, though it has many good passages, is a further proof of the melancholy fact, which is true of all sequels, from the continuation of the Eneid, by one of the famous Italian poets of the middle ages, down to Polly, a Sequel to the Beggar's Opera, that more last words' may generally be spared, without any great detriment to the world." Bishop Heber. "Lara has some charms which The Corsair has not. It is more domestic; it calls forth more sympathies with polished society; it is more intellectual, but much less passionate, less vigorous, and less brilliant; it is sometimes even languid, at any rate, it is more diffuse." Sir E. Brydges. "Lara, obviously the sequel of The Corsair, maintains in And hide her visage with her meagre hand, general the same tone of deep interest and lofty feeling; though the disappearance of Medora from the scene deprives it of the enchanting sweetness by which its terrors are there redeemed, and make the hero, on the whole, less captivating. The character of Lara, too, is rather too laboriously finish. ed, and his nocturnal encounter with the apparition is worked up too ostentatiously. There is infinite beauty in the sketch of the dark Page, and in many of the moral or general reflections which are interspersed with the narrative.” Jeffrey.-L. E "What do the Reviewers mean by 'elaborate? Lara I wrote while undressing, after coming home from balls and masquerades, in the year of revelry, 1814." B. Letters, 1822.-L. E. Hebrew Melodies, ADVERTISEMENT. THE subsequent poems were written at the request of my friend, the Hon. D. Kinnaird, for a Selection of Hebrew Melodies, and have been published with the music, arranged by Mr. Braham and Mr. Nathan. (2) January, 1815. HEBREW MELODIES. SHE WALKS IN BEAUTY. (3) Of cloudless climes and starry skies; Which heaven to gaudy day denies. Or softly lightens o'er her face; How pure, how dear their dwelling-place. So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, (I) Lord Byron never alludes to his share in these Melodies with complacency. Mr. Moore having, on one occasion, rallied him a little on the manner in which some of them had been set to music,-"Sunburn Nathan!" he exclaims, "why do you always twit me with his Ebrew nasalities? Have I not told you it was all Kinnaird's doing, and my own exquisite facility of temper?"-L. E. (2) "Neither the ancient Jews," says Dr. Burney, "nor the modern, have ever had characters peculiar to music; so that the melodies used in their religious ceremonies have, at all times, been traditional, and at the mercy of the singers."-Kalkbrenner tells us, that "les juifs espagnols lisent et chantent leurs psaumes bien différemment que les juifs hollandais, les juifs romains autrement que les juifs de la Prusse et de la Hesse; et tous croient chanter comme on chantoit dans le Temple de Jérusalem!"-Hist. de la Musique, tom. i. p. 34.-L. E. (3) These stanzas were written by Lord Byron, on returning from a ball-room, where he had seen Mrs. (now Lady) Wilmot Horton, the wife of his relation, the present Governor of Ceylon. On this occasion Mrs. II. had appeared (1) The smiles that win, the tints that glow, A mind at peace with all below, THE HARP THE MONARCH MINSTREL THE harp the monarch minstrel swept, O'er tones her heart of hearts had given, It gave them virtues not their own; No ear so dull, no soul so cold, That felt not, fired not to the tone, Till David's lyre grew mightier than his throne! It made our gladden'd valleys ring, The cedars bow, the mountains nod; Its sound aspired to heaven and there abode ! Since then, though heard on earth no more, Devotion, and her daughter Love Still bid the bursting spirit soar To sounds that seem as from above, In dreams that day's broad light can not remove.(5) 1 in mourning, with numerous spangles on her dress.—L. E. Nathan however says, in his Fugitive Pieces and Reminiscences of Lord Byron :-"It is most probable, from the fervent attachment he felt towards his sister, whose countenance was as beautiful as her disposition was amiable, and the unceasing tenderness with which he seemed on all | occasions to view her, that they (the lines in question) were directed to that lady alone. This opinion is much strengthened by the anxiety he betrayed whenever the composition was executed in her presence.”—P. E. (4) "In the reign of King David, music was held in the highest estimation by the Hebrews. The genius of that prince for music, and his attachment to the study and practice of it, as well as the great number of musicians appointed by him for the performance of religious rites and ceremonies, could not fail to extend its influence and augment its perfections: for it was during this period, that music was first honoured by being admitted in the ministry of sacrifice, and worship of the ark; as well as by being cultivated by a king." Burney.-L. E. (5) "The hymns of David excel no less in sublimity and IF THAT HIGH WORLD. It must be so: 'tis not for self That we so tremble on the brink, And, striving to o'erleap the gulf, Yet cling to Being's severing link. Oh! in that future let us think To hold each heart the heart that shares, With them the immortal waters drink, And soul in soul grow deathless theirs! OH! WEEP FOR THOSE. On! weep for those that wept by Babel's stream, tenderness of expression, than in loftiness and purity of religions sentiment. In comparison with them, the sacred poetry of all other nations sinks into mediocrity. They have embodied so exquisitely the universal language of religious emotion, that (a few fierce and vindictive passages excepted, natural in the warrior-poet of a sterner age) they have entered with unquestionable propriety into the Christian ritual. The songs which cheered the solitude of the desert caves of Engedi, or resounded from the voice of the Hebrew people they wound along the glens or the hill-sides of Judea, have been repeated for ages in almost every part of the babitable world,-in the remotest islands of the ocean, among the forests of America, or the sands of Africa. How Bany human hearts have they softened, purified, exalted! of how many wretched beings have they been the secret Pasolation on how many communities have they drawn on the blessings of Divine Providence, by bringing the fictions in unison with their deep devotional fervour!" Valman.-L. E. The words of this melody have been greatly and deervedly admired; yet the circumstances that attended the composition of the latter lines may be interesting. When 255 Weep for the harp of Judah's broken shell; The hearts that leap'd before its heavenly voice? ON JORDAN'S BANKS. ON Jordan's banks the Arab's camels stray, There where thy finger scorch'd the tablet stone! Oh! in the lightning let thy glance appear; Sweep from his shiver'd hand the oppressor's spear. JEPHTHA'S DAUGHTER. (1) SINCE Our country, our God-O my sire! And the voice of my mourning is o'er, And of this, O my father! be sure— Though the virgins of Salem lament, his Lordship put the copy into my hand, it terminated thus: Its sound aspired to heaven, and there abode.' This however did not complete the verse, and I wished him to help out the melody. He replied, "Why, I have sent you to heaven-it would be difficult to go further!' My attention for a few moments was called to some other person, and his Lordship, whom I had hardly missed, exclaimed'Here, Nathan, I have brought you down again;' and immediately presented me the beautiful and sublime lines which conclude the melody." Nathan.-P. E. (1) "Jephtha, a bastard son of Gilead, having been wrongfully expelled from his father's house, had taken refuge in a wild country, and become a noted captain of freebooters. His kindred, groaning under foreign oppression, began to look to their valiant though lawless compatriot, whose profession, according to their usage, was no more dishonourable than that of a pirate in the elder days of Greece. They sent for him, and made him head of their city. Before he went forth against the Ammonites, he made the memorable vow, that, if he returned victorious, he would sacrifice as a burnt-offering whatever first met him When this blood of thy giving hath gush'd, OH! SNATCH'D AWAY IN BEAUTY'S OH! snatch'd away in beauty's bloom, Their leaves, the earliest of the year; And the wild cypress wave in tender gloom: Shall Sorrow lean her drooping head, Away! we know that tears are vain, That death nor heeds nor hears distress: Will this unteach us to complain? Or make one mourner weep the less? And thou--who tell'st me to forget, Thy looks are wan, thine eyes are wet. MY SOUL IS DARK. My soul is dark-Oh! quickly string Its melting murmurs o'er mine ear: "If in this heart a hope be dear, That sound shall charm it forth again; If in these eyes there lurk a tear, "Twill flow, and cease to burn my brain. But bid the strain be wild and deep, Or else this heavy heart will burst; And ached in sleepless silence long; And now 'tis doom'd to know the worst, And break at once-or yield to song.(1) I SAW THEE WEEP. I SAW thee weep-the big bright tear A violet dropping dew: I saw thee smile-the sapphire's blaze It could not match the living rays on his entrance into his native city. He gained a splendid victory. At the news of it, his only daughter came dancing forth, in the gladness of her heart, and with jocund instruments of music, to salute the deliverer of his people. The miserable father rent his clothes in agony; but the noblespirited maiden would not hear of the disregard of the vow: she only demanded a short period to bewail upon the mountains, like the Antigone of Sophocles, her dying without hope of becoming a bride or mother, and then submitted to her fate." Millman.-L. E. (1) "It was generally conceived that Lord Byron's reported singularities approached on some occasions to derangement, and at one period, indeed, it was very currently asserted that As clouds from yonder sun receive Which scarce the shade of coming eve Can banish from the sky, Those smiles unto the moodiest mind Their own pure joy impart: Their sunshine leaves a glow behind That lightens o'er the heart. THY DAYS ARE DONE. Though thou art fall'n, while we are free Thy spirit on our breath! Thy name, our charging hosts along, To weep would do thy glory wrong; SONG OF SAUL BEFORE HIS LAST WARRIORS and chiefs! should the shaft or the sword SAUL. (2) THOU whose spell can raise the dead, King, behold the phantom seer!" Earth yawn'd; he stood the centre of a cloud: Light changed its hue, retiring from his shroud. his intellects were actually impaired. The report on served to amuse his Lordship. He referred to the circum stance, and declared that he would try how a madman con write: seizing the pen with eagerness, he for a memes fixed his eyes in majestic wildness on vacancy; when like flash of inspiration, without erasing a single word, t above verses were the result." Nathan.-P. E. (2) "Haunted with that insatiable desire of searching in the secrets of futurity, inseparable from uncivilised m Saul knew not to what quarter to turn. The priests, ou raged by his cruelty, had forsaken him: the prophets ste aloof: no dreams visited his couch; he had persecute even the unlawful diviners. He hears at last of a femal Death stood all glassy in his fixed eye; "Why is my sleep disquieted? Who is he that calls the dead? FALL IS VANITY, SAITH THE PREACHER." I strive to number o'er what days There rose no day, there roll'd no hour The serpent of the field, by art And spells, is won from harming; 'Whom ecromancer, a woman with the spirit of Ob; strangely similar in sound to the Obeah women in the West Indies. To the cave-dwelling of this woman, in Endor, the monarch proceeds in disguise. He commands her to raise the spirit of Samuel. At this daring demand, the woman first recog aises, or pretends to recognise, her royal visitor. test thou?' says the king. Mighty ones ascending from the earth,Of what form? An old man covered with mantle.' Saul, in terror, bows down his head to the earth; and, it should seem, not daring to look up, receives from the voice of the spectre the awful intimation of his defeat and death. On the reality of this apparition we pretead not to decide: the figure, if figure there were, was not seen by Saul; and, excepting the event of the approaching battle, the spirit said nothing which the living prophet had hot said before, repeatedly and publicly. But the fact is carious, as showing the popular belief of the Jews in de WHEN COLDNESS WRAPS THIS SUFFERING CLAY. WHEN coldness wraps this suffering clay, Ah! whither strays the immortal mind? It cannot die, it cannot stay, But leaves its darken'd dust behind. By steps each planet's heavenly way? A thought unseen, but seeing all, Before Creation peopled earth, Its eye shall roll through chaos back; And where the furthest heaven had birth, The spirit trace its rising track. And where the future mars or makes, Its glance dilate o'er all to be, While sun is quench'd or system breaks, Fix'd in its own eternity. Above or love, hope, hate, or fear, It lives all passionless and pure: An age shall fleet like earthly year; Its years as moments shall endure. Away, away, without a wing, O'er all, through all, its thought shall fly; A nameless and eternal thing, Forgetting what it was to die. VISION OF BELSHAZZAR. The satraps throng'd the hall; In Judah deem'd divine- The godless heathen's wine! parted spirits to have been the same with that of most other nations." Millman.-L. E. (1) "Since we have spoken of witches," said Lord Byron at Cephalonia, in 1823," what think you of the witch of Endor? I have always thought this the finest and most finished witch-scene that ever was written or conceived; and you will be of my opinion, if you consider all the cir cumstances and the actors in the case, together with the gravity, simplicity, and dignity of the language. It beats all the ghost-scenes I ever read. The finest conception on a similar subject is that of Goethe's devil, Mephistopheles; and though, of course, you will give the priority to the former, as being inspired, yet the latter, if you know it, will appear to you-at least it does to me-one of the finest and most sublime specimens of human conception." Kennedy's Conversations on Religion, etc., with Lord Byron.-L. E. |