\u00d4 Virgile ! \u00f4 po\u00e8te ! \u00f4 mon ma\u00eetre divin !
\nViens, quittons cette ville au cri sinistre et vain
\nQui, g\u00e9ante, et jamais ne fermant la paupi\u00e8re,
\nPresse un flot \u00e9cumant entre ses flancs de pierre,
\nLut\u00e8ce, si petite au temps de tes c\u00e9sars,
\nEt qui jette aujourd\u2019hui, cit\u00e9 pleine de chars,
\nSous le nom \u00e9clatant dont le monde la nomme,
\nPlus de clart\u00e9 qu\u2019Ath\u00e8nes et plus de bruit que Rome.<\/p>\n
Pour toi qui dans les bois fais, comme l\u2019eau des cieux,
\nTomber de feuille en feuille un vers myst\u00e9rieux,
\nPour toi, dont la pens\u00e9e emplit ma r\u00eaverie,
\nJ\u2019ai trouv\u00e9, dans une ombre o\u00f9 rit l\u2019herbe fleurie,
\nEntre Buc et Meudon, dans un profond oubli,
\n\u2014 Et quand je dis Meudon, suppose Tivoli ! \u2014
\nJ\u2019ai trouv\u00e9, mon po\u00e8te, une chaste vall\u00e9e
\n\u00c0 des coteaux charmants nonchalamment m\u00eal\u00e9e,
\nRetraite favorable \u00e0 des amants cach\u00e9s,
\nFaite de flots dormants et de rameaux pench\u00e9s,
\nO\u00f9 midi baigne en vain de ses rayons sans nombre
\nLa grotte et la for\u00eat, frais asiles de l\u2019ombre !<\/p>\n
Pour toi je l\u2019ai cherch\u00e9e, un matin, fier, joyeux,
\nAvec l\u2019amour au c\u0153ur et l\u2019aube dans les yeux ;
\nPour toi je l\u2019ai cherch\u00e9e, accompagn\u00e9 de celle
\nQui sait tous les secrets que mon \u00e2me rec\u00e8le,
\nEt qui, seule avec moi sous les bois chevelus,
\nSerait ma Lycoris si j\u2019\u00e9tais ton Gallus.<\/p>\n
Car elle a dans le c\u0153ur cette fleur large et pure,
\nL\u2019amour myst\u00e9rieux de l\u2019antique nature !
\nElle aime comme nous, ma\u00eetre, ces douces voix,
\nCe bruit de nids joyeux qui sort des sombres bois,
\nEt, le soir, tout au fond de la vall\u00e9e \u00e9troite,
\nLes coteaux renvers\u00e9s dans le lac qui miroite,
\nEt, quand le couchant morne a perdu sa rougeur,
\nLes marais irrit\u00e9s des pas du voyageur,
\nEt l\u2019humble chaume, et l\u2019antre obstru\u00e9 d\u2019herbe verte,
\nEt qui semble une bouche avec terreur ouverte,
\nLes eaux, les pr\u00e9s, les monts, les refuges charmants,
\nEt les grands horizons pleins de rayonnements !<\/p>\n
Ma\u00eetre ! puisque voici la saison des pervenches,
\nSi tu veux, chaque nuit, en \u00e9cartant les branches,
\nSans \u00e9veiller d\u2019\u00e9chos \u00e0 nos pas hasardeux,
\nNous irons tous les trois, c\u2019est-\u00e0-dire tous deux,
\nDans ce vallon sauvage, et de la solitude,
\nR\u00eaveurs, nous surprendrons la secr\u00e8te attitude.
\nDans la brune clairi\u00e8re o\u00f9 l\u2019arbre au tronc noueux
\nPrend le soir un profil humain et monstrueux,
\nNous laisserons fumer, \u00e0 c\u00f4t\u00e9 d\u2019un cytise,
\nQuelque feu qui s\u2019\u00e9teint sans p\u00e2tre qui l\u2019attise,
\nEt, l\u2019oreille tendue \u00e0 leurs vagues chansons,
\nDans l\u2019ombre, au clair de lune, \u00e0 travers les buissons,
\nAvides, nous pourrons voir \u00e0 la d\u00e9rob\u00e9e
\nLes satyres dansants qu\u2019imite Alph\u00e9sib\u00e9e.<\/p>\n
23 mars 18\u2026<\/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":[291],"poems-book":[292],"poemes-theme":[],"poete":[206],"class_list":["post-4457","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-291","poems-book-les-voix-interieures","poete-victor-hugo"],"yoast_head":"\n