Dans le silence et la grandeur des cath\u00e9drales,
\nLa cit\u00e9 riche avait, jadis, dress\u00e9 vers Dieu
\nDe merveilleux autels, tordus comme des feux :
\nCuivres, bronzes, argents, cartels, rinceaux, spirales.<\/p>\n
Les chefs vainqueurs et leurs soldats
\nY suspendaient les vieux drapeaux de guerre ;
\nEt les autels d\u00e9cor\u00e9s d\u2019or,
\nAux yeux de ceux qui sortaient des combats,
\nApparaissaient alors
\nComme un arri\u00e8re immense de gal\u00e8re.<\/p>\n
D\u2019entre les hauts piliers jaillissaient les buccins ;
\nDes archanges farouches
\nY appuyaient leur bouche,
\nEt, dans un gonflement de la gorge et des seins,
\nSonnaient vers les vents de la Gloire,
\nLa vie ardente et la victoire.<\/p>\n
Sur les marbres des escaliers,
\nLes bras g\u00e9ants des chandeliers
\nDressaient leurs cires enflamm\u00e9es,
\nLes encensoirs volaient dans les fum\u00e9es ;
\nLes ex-votos luisaient comme un fourmillement
\nD\u2019yeux et de c\u0153urs, dans l\u2019ombre ;
\nL\u2019orgue, ainsi qu\u2019une mar\u00e9e, immens\u00e9ment
\nGrondait ; des rafales de voix sans nombre
\nSortaient du temple et r\u00e9sonnaient jusqu\u2019au beffroi ;
\nEt le pr\u00eatre v\u00eatu d\u2019orfroi,
\nAu milieu des pennons brandis et des bombardes,
\nLevait l\u2019\u00e9p\u00e9e et lentement tra\u00e7ait avec la garde,
\nSur le front des h\u00e9ros, le signe de la croix.<\/p>\n
Oh ! ces autels, pareils \u00e0 des brasiers sculpt\u00e9s,
\nAvec leur flore \u00e9norme et leurs feux exalt\u00e9s !
\nMassifs et violents, exorbitants et fous,
\nIls demeurent encor, parmi les villes mortes,
\nDebout,
\nAlors qu\u2019on n\u2019entend plus les chefs et leurs escortes,
\n\u2014 Sabres, clairons, soleil, lances, drapeaux, tambours \u2014
\nRentrer par les remparts et passer les faubourgs,
\nEt revenir, comme autrefois, au c\u0153ur des places,
\nPlanter leur \u00e9tendard qui d\u00e9chira l\u2019espace.<\/p>\n
La gloire est loin et son miracle :
\nLes archanges qui couronnent le tabernacle,
\nComme autant d\u2019\u00e9normes Renomm\u00e9es,
\nNe sonnent plus pour les arm\u00e9es ;
\nAvec prudence, on a r\u00e9fugi\u00e9
\nL\u2019embl\u00e9matique et colossal lion
\nDans le blason de la cit\u00e9 ;
\nEt, vers midi, le carillon,
\nAvec ses notes lasses,
\nNe laisse plus danser
\nSur la grand\u2019place
\nEt s\u2019\u00e9puiser,
\nQu\u2019un petit air estropi\u00e9.<\/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":[561],"poems-book":[695],"poemes-theme":[],"poete":[654],"class_list":["post-15326","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-561","poems-book-les-villes-a-pignons","poete-emile-verhaeren"],"yoast_head":"\n