Of all the poems of Mistral expressing this order of ideas, the one entitled The Countess made the greatest stir.  It appeared in 1866, and called forth much angry discussion and imputation of treason from the enemies of the new movement. The Countess is an allegorical representation of Provence; the fair descendant of imperial ancestors is imprisoned in a convent by her half-sister France.  Formerly she possessed a hundred fortified towns, twenty seaports; she had olives, fruit, and grain in abundance; a great river watered her fields; a great wind vivified the land, and the proud noblewoman could live without her neighbor, and she sang so sweetly that all loved her, poets and suitors thronged about her.

Now, in the convent where she is cloistered all are dressed alike, all obey the rule of the same bell, all joy is gone.  The half-sister has broken her tambourines and taken away her vineyards, and gives out that her sister is dead.

Then the poet breaks into an appeal to the strong to break into the great convent, to hang the abbess, and say to the Countess, “Appear again, O splendor!  Away with grief, away!  Long life to joy!”

Each stanza is followed by the refrain:—­

    “Ah! se me sabien entendre! 
    Ah! se me voulien segui!”

    Ah! if they could understand me! 
    Ah! if they would follow me!

Mistral disdained to reply to the storm of accusations and incriminations raised by the publication of this poem. Lou Saumede la Penitenci, that appeared in 1870, set at rest all doubts concerning his deep and sincere patriotism.

The Psalm of Penitence is possibly the finest of the short poems.  It is certainly surpassed by no other in intensity of feeling, in genuine inspiration, in nobility and beauty of expression.  It is a hymn of sorrow over the woes of France, a prayer of humility and resignation after the disaster of 1870.  The reader must accept the idea, of course, that the defeat of the French was a visitation of Providence in punishment for sin.

    “Segnour, a la fin ta coulero
          Largo si tron
          Sus nosti front: 
    E dins la niue nosto galero
          Pico d’a pro
          Contro li ro.”

     Lord, at last thy wrath hurls its thunderbolts upon our foreheads: 

     And in the night our vessel strikes its prow against the rocks.

France was punished for irreligion, for closing the temples, for abandoning the sacraments and commandments, for losing faith in all except selfish interest and so-called progress, for contempt of the Bible and pride in science.

The poet makes confession:—­

    “Segnour, sian tis enfant proudigue;
          Mai nautri sian
          Ti viei crestian: 
    Que ta Justico nous castigue,
          Mai au trepas
          Nous laisses pas!”

     Lord, we are thy prodigal sons; but we are thy Christians of old: