\u00d4 vous qui passez comme l\u2019ombre
\nPar ce triste vallon de pleurs,
\nPassagers sur ce globe sombre,
\nHommes, mes fr\u00e8res en douleurs,
\n\u00c9coutez ! voici vers Solime
\nUn son de la harpe sublime
\nQui charmait l\u2019\u00e9cho du Thabor :
\nSion en fr\u00e9mit sous sa cendre,
\nEt le vieux palmier croit entendre
\nLa voix du vieillard de S\u00e9gor.<\/p>\n
Insens\u00e9 le mortel qui pense !
\nToute pens\u00e9e est une erreur.
\nVivez et mourez en silence,
\nCar la parole est au Seigneur.
\nIl sait pourquoi flottent les mondes ;
\nIl sait pourquoi coulent les ondes,
\nPourquoi les cieux pendent sur nous,
\nPourquoi le jour brille et s\u2019efface,
\nPourquoi l\u2019homme soupire et passe :
\nEt vous, mortels, que savez-vous ?<\/p>\n
Asseyez-vous pr\u00e8s des fontaines,
\nTandis qu\u2019agitant les rameaux,
\nDu midi les ti\u00e8des haleines
\nFont flotter l\u2019ombre sur les eaux :
\nAu doux murmure de leurs ondes
\nExprimez vos grappes f\u00e9condes,
\nO\u00f9 rougit l\u2019heureuse liqueur ;
\nEt de main en main, sous vos treilles,
\nPassez-vous ces coupes vermeilles
\nPleines de l\u2019ivresse du c\u0153ur.<\/p>\n
Ainsi qu\u2019on choisit une rose
\nDans les guirlandes de Sarons,
\nChoisissez une vierge \u00e9close
\nParmi les lis de vos vallons ;
\nEnivrez-vous de son haleine,
\n\u00c9cartez ses tresses d\u2019\u00e9b\u00e8ne,
\nGo\u00fbtez les fruits de sa beaut\u00e9 :
\nVivez, aimez, c\u2019est la sagesse !
\nHors le plaisir et la tendresse,
\nTout est mensonge et vanit\u00e9.<\/p>\n
Comme un lis pench\u00e9 par la pluie
\nCourbe ses rameaux \u00e9plor\u00e9s,
\nSi la main du Seigneur vous plie,
\nBaissez votre t\u00eate, et pleurez.
\nUne larme \u00e0 ses pieds vers\u00e9e
\nLuit plus que la perle ench\u00e2ss\u00e9e
\nDans son tabernacle immortel ;
\nEt le c\u0153ur bless\u00e9 qui soupire
\nRend un son plus doux que la lyre
\nSous les colonnes de l\u2019autel.<\/p>\n
Les astres roulent en silence,
\nSans savoir les routes des cieux ;
\nLe Jourdain vers l\u2019ab\u00eeme immense
\nPoursuit son cours myst\u00e9rieux ;
\nL\u2019aquilon, d\u2019une aile rapide,
\nSans savoir o\u00f9 l\u2019instinct le guide,
\nS\u2019\u00e9lance et court sur vos sillons ;
\nLes feuilles que l\u2019hiver entasse,
\nSans savoir o\u00f9 le vent les chasse,
\nVolent en p\u00e2les tourbillons.<\/p>\n
Et vous, pourquoi d\u2019un soin st\u00e9rile
\nEmpoisonner vos jours born\u00e9s ?
\nLe jour pr\u00e9sent vaut mieux que mille
\nDes si\u00e8cles qui ne sont pas n\u00e9s.
\nPassez, passez, ombres l\u00e9g\u00e8res ;
\nAllez o\u00f9 sont all\u00e9s vos p\u00e8res,
\nDormir aupr\u00e8s de vos a\u00efeux.
\nDe ce lit o\u00f9 la mort sommeille,
\nOn dit qu\u2019un jour elle s\u2019\u00e9veille
\nComme l\u2019aurore dans les cieux.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"parent":0,"template":"","meta":{"inline_featured_image":false,"site-sidebar-layout":"default","site-content-layout":"","ast-site-content-layout":"default","site-content-style":"default","site-sidebar-style":"default","ast-global-header-display":"","ast-banner-title-visibility":"","ast-main-header-display":"","ast-hfb-above-header-display":"","ast-hfb-below-header-display":"","ast-hfb-mobile-header-display":"","site-post-title":"","ast-breadcrumbs-content":"","ast-featured-img":"","footer-sml-layout":"","ast-disable-related-posts":"","theme-transparent-header-meta":"default","adv-header-id-meta":"","stick-header-meta":"default","header-above-stick-meta":"","header-main-stick-meta":"","header-below-stick-meta":"","astra-migrate-meta-layouts":"set","ast-page-background-enabled":"default","ast-page-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-4)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}},"ast-content-background-meta":{"desktop":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"tablet":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""},"mobile":{"background-color":"var(--ast-global-color-5)","background-image":"","background-repeat":"repeat","background-position":"center center","background-size":"auto","background-attachment":"scroll","background-type":"","background-media":"","overlay-type":"","overlay-color":"","overlay-opacity":"","overlay-gradient":""}}},"annee":[480],"poems-book":[477],"poemes-theme":[],"poete":[483],"class_list":["post-10753","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-480","poems-book-nouvelles-meditations-poetiques","poete-alphonse-de-lamartine"],"yoast_head":"\n