He had a strong love for Bordeaux.
It was the place where he had first recited his Blind Girl, where he had first attracted public attention, and where he was always admired and always feted.

The Orphan Institution of the city was in difficulties; its funds were quite exhausted; and who should be invited to come to their help but their old friend Jasmin?
He was again enthusiastically received.

The Franklin Rooms were crowded, and money flowed quickly into the orphans' treasury.

Among the poems he recited was the following:-- THE SHEPHERD AND THE GASCON POET.{1} Aux Bordelais, au jour de ma grande Seance au Casino.
In a far land, I know not where, Ere viol's sigh; or organ's swell, Had made the sons of song aware That music! is a potent spell: A shepherd to a city came, Play'd on his pipe, and rose to fame.
He sang of fields, and at each close, Applause from ready hands arose.
The simple swain was hail'd and crown'd, In mansions where the great reside, And cheering smiles and praise he found, And in his heart rose honest pride.
All seem'd with joy and rapture gleaming, He trembled lest he was but dreaming.
But, modest still, his soul was moved; Yet of his hamlet was his thought-- Of friends at home, and her he loved, When back his laurel branch he brought.
And pleasure beaming in his eyes, Enjoyed their welcome and surprise.
'Twas thus with me when Bordeaux deigned To listen to my rustic song: Whose music praise and honour gain'd More than to rural strains belong.
Delighted, charm'd, I scarcely knew Whence sprung this life so fresh and new, And to my heart I whispered low, When to my fields returned again, "Is not the Gascon Poet now As happy as the shepherd swain ?" The minstrel never can forget, The spot where first success he met; But he, the shepherd who, of yore, Has charm'd so many a list'ing ear, Came back, and was beloved no more.
He found all changed and cold and drear A skilful hand had touch'd the flute; His pipe and he were scorn'd--were mute.
But I, once more I dared appear, And found old friends so true and dear.
The mem'ry of my ancient lays Lived in their hearts, awoke their praise.
Oh! they did more.

I was their guest; Again was welcomed and caress't, And, twined with their melodious tongue, Again my rustic carol rung; And my old language proudly found Her words had list'ners pressing round.
Thus, though condemn'd the shepherd's skill, The Gascon Poet triumph'd still.
At the end of the recital a pretty little orphan girl came forward and presented Jasmin with a laurel adorned with a ruby, with these words in golden letters, "To Jasmin, with the orphans' gratitude." Jasmin finally descended from the rostrum and mixed with the audience, who pressed round him and embraced him.