These ballads are sung by Mrs. Waylett at the Adelphi Theatre, to whom they are not a little indebted, for she gives a character to whatever of the kind she undertakes, that scarcely ever fails to draw ‘thunders of applause,’ in the theatrical phrase. But they have also inherent merit. The first is playful and winning, and free from all vulgarity of cadence. The second is in a very popular style, with a pizzicato accompaniment, strongly marked in rhythm, though possessing little of that originality which is so difficult to find.

  1. AIR, ‘Friendship,’ composed by HENRY R. BISHOP. (Chappell.)
  2. BALLAD, ‘I’ve been a Wanderer on the Seas,’ composed by JOHN BARNETT. (Chappell.)
  3. SONG, ‘Above doth stand the DIGGER OF GRAVES,’ translated by W. M. M’GREGOR LOGAN, from the German of Der Todtengräber, composed by FRED. KUHLAU. (Wessel and Co.)
  4. BALLAD, ‘The two Ravens,’ composed by G. HARGREAVES. (Hawes.)
  5. SONG, ‘They bade me sing,’ the words by J. ROBY. Esq.; the Music by CHARLES SMITH. (Cramer and Co.)
  6. NAUTICAL SONG, ‘The Sailor’s Notion,’ composed by W. A. WORDSWORTH. (Monro and May.)
  7. BALLAD, ‘O’er the green Waters,’ the words by W. BALL; the Music by WILLIAM ORDE. (Cocks and Co.)
  8. BALLAD, ‘The Chain,’ composed by W. NEULAND. (Chappell.)

The first of these is one of those correct and gracious airs which always, to a certain extent, please when heard, but, for want of distinctness of character, are forgotten the moment the last note is sounded.


No. 2 meets our longing ears with something in the shape of originality, something which informs us that the composer has taken the trouble to think. Of the latter, the notes at the words, ‘whose voices came,’ is a proof, and the whole is indicative of reflection and knowledge of effect.


No. 3 is true German, both words and music. A giant ‘in sable armour’ goes to a grave-digger, (der Todtengräber)—and insists on being buried. The man of the mournful spade tremblingly complies. The grave-wooer lies down, his head resting on his shield, and is covered up. The sexton crosses himself, and the story ends; but what it means, beyond what is stated, we know not, and suspect that the grave-digger never was better informed on the subject than are we and our readers. The music has a grand simplicity in it that proves of what the composer was capable, and how much we lost by his early death. He was, most probably, impressed with an idea of something mysteriously awful in the words, and admirably adapted his harmony to his conception of the poet’s meaning, into which he penetrated further than we are capable of doing. This is for a base voice, and the English translation is adapted to it with an accuracy seldom attained.


No 4 is also very Germanic, and quite as full of horrors as the former, but of another kind. The poet here sings of two birds, who ask, ‘Where shall we dine?’ The one is in favour of the remains of some shipwrecked mariners, whose corpses look inviting: the other recommends the cold remains of ‘a new-slain knight.’ How the hungry ravens determine, the song saith not, though the arguments of the latter, who seems to have been strongly tempted by the jelly of the knight’s eye, most likely prevail. This really does not seem a lyrical subject, but the composer (an amateur) has made much of it. Indeed, we have here a work of considerable genius, pleasing in spite of the not very inviting story, and superior to most of the songs that come before us.