And in minor poetry, whose principal merit lies in rhythm and harmony, we must not look at things too closely.
Even in our days, the Provencal poets, who know the Cigale as Anacreon never did, are scarcely more careful of the truth in celebrating the insect which they have taken for their emblem.

A friend of mine, an eager observer and a scrupulous realist, does not deserve this reproach.
He gives me permission to take from his pigeon-holes the following Provencal poem, in which the relations between the Cigale and the Ant are expounded with all the rigour of science.

I leave to him the responsibility for his poetic images and his moral reflections, blossoms unknown to my naturalist's garden; but I can swear to the truth of all he says, for it corresponds with what I see each summer on the lilac-trees of my garden.
LA CIGALO E LA FOURNIGO.
I.
Jour de Dieu, queto caud! Beu tems per la Cigalo, Que, trefoulido, se regalo D'uno raisso de fio; beu tems per la meissoun.
Dins lis erso d'or, lou segaire, Ren plega, pitre au vent, rustico e canto gaire; Dins soun gousie, la set estranglo la cansoun.
Tems benesi per tu.

Dounc, ardit! cigaleto, Fai-lei brusi, ti chimbaleto, E brandusso lou ventre a creba ti mirau.
L'Ome enterin mando le daio, Que vai balin-balan de longo e que dardaio L'ulau de soun acie sus li rous espigau.
Plen d'aigo per la peiro e tampouna d'erbiho Lou coufie sus l'anco pendiho.
Si la peiro es au fres dins soun estui de bos, E se de longo es abeurado, L'Ome barbelo au fio d'aqueli souleiado Que fan bouli de fes la mesoulo dis os.
Tu, Cigalo, as un biais per la set: dins la rusco Tendro e jutouso d'uno busco, L'aguio de toun be cabusso e cavo un pous.
Lou siro monto per la draio.
T'amourres a la fon melicouso que raio, E dou sourgent sucra beves lou teta-dous.
Mai pas toujour en pas.

Oh! que nani; de laire, Vesin, vesino o barrulaire, T'an vist cava lou pous.