As far as the record goes the outward life of Francis Jammes has been
uneventful. In a remarkable poem, "A Francis Jammes," his friend and
fellow-poet, Charles Guérin, has drawn an unforgetable picture of this
Christian Virgil in his village home. The ivy clings about his house
like a beard, and before it is a shadowy fire, ever young and fresh,
like the poet's heart, in spite of wind and winters and sorrows. The
low walls of the court are gilded with moss. From the window one sees
the cottages and fields, the horizon and the snows.

Jammes was born at Tournay in the department of Hautes Pyrénées on
December 2, 1863, and spent most of his life in this region. He was
educated at Pau and Bordeaux, and later spent a short time in a law
office. Early in the nineties he wrote his first volumes, slender
_plaquettes_ with the brief title "Vers." It is interesting that
one of these was dedicated to that strange English genius, Hubert
Crackanthorpe, the author of "Wreckage" and "Sentimental Studies."
This dedication, and the curious orthography (the book was set up in a
provincial printery) led a reviewer in the _Mercure de France_ into an
amusing error, in that he suggested that the book had been written by
an Englishman whose name, correctly spelled, should perhaps be Francis
James.

Since then his life has been wholly devoted to literature and he has
published a considerable number of volumes of poetry and prose which
by their very titles give a clue to the spirit pervading the author's
work. Among the more important of these are: _De l'Angelus de
l'Aube à l'Angelus du Soir, Le Deuil des Primevères, Pomme d'Anis
ou l'Histoire d'une Jeune Fille Infirme, Clairières dans le Ciel_, a
number of series of _Géorgiques Chrétienne_, etc.