And all that Hope ador'd and lost
Hath melted into memory.

Alas! it is delusion all:
The future cheats us from afar,
Nor can we be what we recall
Nor dare we think on what we are.


The foregoing lines were officiously taken up by a person who
arrogated to himself some self-importance in criticism, and who made
an observation upon their demerits, on which his lordship quaintly
observed, "they were written in haste and they shall perish in the
same manner," and immediately consigned them to the flames; as my
music adapted to them, however, did not share the same fate, and
having a contrary opinion of any thing that might fall from the pen of
Lord Byron, I treasured them up, and on a subsequent interview with
his lordship I accused him of having committed suicide in making so
valuable a _burnt offering_: to which his lordship smilingly replied,
"the act seems to _inflame_ you: come, Nathan, since you are
displeased with the _sacrifice_, I give them to you as a _peace
offering_, use them as you may deem proper."

When the Hebrew Melodies were first published, Sir Walter, then Mr.
Scott, honoured me with a visit at my late residence in Poland Street:
I sang several of the melodies to him--he repeated his visit, and
requested I would allow him to introduce his lady and his daughter;
they came together, when I had the pleasure of singing to them
Jephtha's Daughter and one or two more of the most favourite airs;
they entered into the spirit of the music with all the true taste and