When they are obliged to give up, from mere fatigue, a censor pronounces which is the victor: that is, which of the two has given the most gratification to the audience." [Footnote 37: M.Boucher.

"Souvenirs du Pays Basque."] The Basque poet has no view in his compositions but the expression of his feelings: he has no idea of gain, or reputation, but sings because he requires to show the emotions which agitate him.

It is not a little singular that, in this particular, he resembles the inhabitants of Otaheite; one of whom Bougainville describes as having sung in strophes all that struck him during a voyage.
The Basque language seems very well adapted for light poetry; and, indeed, is peculiarly fitted for rhyme, and has a natural ease which helps the verse along, in a manner which belongs to the Italian.

The ideas are always tender and delicate, to a surprising degree, as the following songs may prove: BASQUE SONG.
"Su garretan," &c.
I BURN in flames, because my heart Has loved thee through the dreary past; And in my eyes the tear-drops start, To think I lose thee at the last.
My days are pass'd in ceaseless weeping, And all my nights in vain regret; No peace awaits me--waking--sleeping, Until I die, and all forget: And thou who seest me thus repine, Hast not a tear for grief like mine! The Basque poet can seldom read or write: he owes nothing to education: nature alone is his instructress, and she inspires him with ideas the most graceful, tender, and, at the same time, correct, for nothing exceptionable is ever heard in his songs.

In many of these there is a strain which might parallel some of the sweetest odes of the Persians; from whom, it is not impossible but that they may have derived them; if, indeed, the early troubadours from the East have not left their traces in such lays as this: BASQUE SONG.
"Ezdut uste baden ceruan aingeruric," &c.
I CANNOT think in heaven above Immortal angels there may be, Whose hearts can show so pure a love As that which binds my soul to thee: And when, my ceaseless suff'rings past, The grave shall make me all forget, I only ask thee, at the last, One gentle sigh of fond regret.
Very often these songs take the form of dialogues: the following is one very well known in the country: BASQUE SONG.
"Amodioac bainarabila chorinoa aircan bezala," &c.
_The Lover_.
LOVE lifts me gently in the air, As though I were a bird to fly, And nights to me, like days, are fair, Because my gentle love is nigh.
_The Mistress_.
Thou call'st me dear--ah! seest thou not Those words have only pow'r to grieve me?
Why is my coldness all forgot?
And why not, at my bidding, leave me?
_The Lover_.
The love I feel--and canst thou doubt-- I, who would traverse seas for thee! Who have no power to live without, And own thy charms are life to me.
_The Mistress_.
If I have charms, thine eye alone Behold'st the beauty none can prize; Oh! in the world exists but one Who fills my soul and dims my eyes: That one--ask not who he may be, But leave me--for thou art not he! The following may serve as a specimen of their passionate expressions: BASQUE SONG.
"Ene maitcac biloa hori," &c.
My fair one, with the golden tresses, With rosy cheeks and hands of snow, With hopeless care each heart oppresses, Around her step such graces glow.
A cloud, upon her brow descending, Has dimm'd that eye of dazzling ray, Upon whose glance, the light attending, Has led my giddy heart astray.
I see thee, like the flow'r of morning, In sweetness and in beauty shine; None like to thee the world adorning-- My life, my soul, my life is thine! The Basques have compositions in various styles--complaints and satires--like the professors of the _gaie science_.