It is strange to note the coincidence of imagery and even of expression with which the same situation has supplied the troubadour, and Shakespeare in ‘Romeo and Juliet.’ The simplicity, one might almost say the obviousness, of all true poetry here finds a striking illustration. Given the parting of two lovers at early morn, and the ‘earliest cry of new-awakened birds’ heralding or seeking the day, the morning star, the dawn, and the defiance of its perils by the lover—all this suggests itself almost as a matter of necessity. To the same simplicity of motive we have to ascribe the freshness and beauty of many of the _albas_. In them the troubadours frequently display an intensity of language, an originality and picturesqueness of description, which we look for in vain in their more elaborate poems. What, for instance, can be more impressive in its striking symbolism than the opening address to the ‘Glorious King, the true light and brightness,’ or more subtle and poetic than the conception of the lark seeking or longing for the morn with its anxious cry? It is another proof of the enormous value of the popular element in artistic poetry. While in contact with this healthy spirit, the Troubadours held it unnecessary, perhaps beneath their dignity, to show the formal capabilities of their craft. At the same time the _alba_ was by no means without its formal rule or custom. This also is more or less strictly exemplified by the stanzas above quoted. The reader will notice the refrain or burden at the end of each stanza, another proof of the antiquity of the species; he will also remark the recurrence of the word ‘_alba_.’ This word is always found in the burden, or, where that feature is wanting, in the last line of every stanza, of which sometimes it is actually the concluding word. To this quaint and evidently very primitive device the name of these poems is owing. The only exception to this rule known to me is found in an anonymous _alba_ which in other important respects differs from and is inferior to the genuine poems of the class. For here, instead of an outpouring of feeling, we have a narration as of a past event suddenly interrupted by a violent diatribe against the sentinel for ‘hurrying on the day,’ and concluded as abruptly by an address of the lady to her ‘friend Sir Stephen,’ probably the poet himself, warning him of his danger in tarrying with her.