The lilt of this little romance, with its pretty repetitions, is delightful, and the symbolism is, of course, perfectly obvious.

There is the touching story of the Troubadour Catalan, slain by robbers in the Bois de Boulogne, where the Pre de Catalan now is; there is the tale that accounts for the great chain that hangs across the gorge at Moustiers, a chain over six hundred feet long, bearing a star in the centre.  A knight, being prisoner among the Saracens, vows to hang the chain before the chapel of the Virgin, if ever he returns home.

    “A ti ped, vierge Mario,
    Ma cadeno penjarai,
        Se jamai
        Tourne mai
    A Moustie, dins ma patrio!”

There is the tale of the Princess Clemence, daughter of a king of Provence.  Her father was deformed, and the heir-presumptive to the French crown sought her in marriage.  In order that the prince might be sure she had inherited none of the father’s deformity, she was called upon to show herself in the garb of Lady Godiva before his ambassadors.  This rather delicate subject is handled with consummate art.

The idea of federalism is found expressed with sufficient clearness in various parts of these poems of the Golden Isles, and the patriotism of the poet, his love of France, is perfectly evident, in spite of all that has been said to the contrary.  In the poem addressed to the Catalans, after numerous allusions to the dissensions and rebellions of bygone days, we read:—­

“Now, however, it is clear; now, however, we know that in the divine order all is for the best; the Provencals, a unanimous flame, are part of great France, frankly, loyally; the Catalans, with good-will, are part of magnanimous Spain.  For the brook must flow to the sea, and the stone must fall on the heap; the wheat is best protected from the treacherous cold wind when planted close; and the little boats, if they are to navigate safely, when the waves are black and the air dark, must sail together.  For it is good to be many, it is a fine thing to say, ’We are children of France!’”

But in days of peace let each province develop its own life in its own way.

“And France and Spain, when they see their children warming themselves together in the sunbeams of the fatherland, singing matins out of the same book, will say, ’The children have sense enough, let them laugh and play together, now they are old enough to be free.’

“And we shall see, I promise you, the ancient freedom come down, O happiness, upon the smallest city, and love alone bind the races together; and if ever the black talon of the tyrant is seen, all the races will bound up to drive out the bird of prey!”