of the reapers, father of the poor, up there
in Paradise, remember me."

And after the old man's death "the reapers, silent, sickle in hand, go
on with the work in haste, for the hot mistral was shaking the ears."

Among these earlier poems are found some cleverly told, homely tales,
with a pointed moral. Such are _La Plueio_ (The Rain), _La Rascladuro de
Petrin_ (The Scraping from the Kneading-trough). They are really
excellent, and teach the lesson that the tillers of the soil have a holy
calling, of which they may be proud, and that God sends them health and
happiness, peace and liberty. The second of the poems just mentioned is
a particularly amusing story of choosing a wife according to the care
she takes of her kneading-trough, the idea being derived from an old
fablieau. There are one or two others purely humorous and capitally
told. After 1860, however, the poet abandoned these homely, simple
tales, that doubtless realized Roumanille's ideas of one aspect of the
literary revival he was seeking to bring about.

The poems are not arranged chronologically, but are classified as Songs,
Romances, Sirventes, Reveries, Plaints, Sonnets, Nuptial Songs, etc.

The _Cansoun_ (Songs) are sung at every reunion of the Felibrige. They
are set to melodies well known in Provence, and are spirited and
vigorous indeed. The Germans who write about Provence are fond of making
known the fact that the air of the famous _Hymn to the Sun_ is a melody
written by Kuecken. There is _Lou Bastimen_ (The Ship), as full of dash
and go as any English sea ballad. _La Coutigo_ (The Tickling) is a
dialogue between a mother and her love-sick son. _La Coupo_ (The Cup)
is the song of the Felibres _par excellence_; it was composed for the
reception of a silver cup, sent to the Felibres by the Catalans. The
_coupo felibrenco_ is now a feature of all their banquets. The song
expresses the enthusiasm of the Felibres for their cause. The refrain
is, "Holy cup, overflowing, pour out in plenty the enthusiasms and the
energy of the strong." The most significant lines are:--

Of a proud, free people
We are perhaps the end;
And, if the Felibres fall,
Our nation will fall.

Of a race that germs anew
Perhaps we are the first growth;
Of our land we are perhaps
The pillars and the chiefs.

Pour out for us hope
And dreams of youth,
The memory of the past
And faith in the coming year.

The ideas and sent