Elle fait au milieu du jour son petit somme ;
\nCar l\u2019enfant a besoin du r\u00eave plus que l\u2019homme :
\nCette terre est si laide alors qu\u2019on vient du ciel !
\nL\u2019enfant cherche \u00e0 revoir Ch\u00e9rubin, Ariel,
\nSes camarades, Puck, Titania, les f\u00e9es,
\nEt ses mains quand il dort sont par Dieu r\u00e9chauff\u00e9es.<\/p>\n
Oh ! comme nous serions surpris si nous voyions,
\nAu fond de ce sommeil sacr\u00e9, plein de rayons,
\nCes paradis ouverts dans l\u2019ombre, et ces passages
\nD\u2019\u00e9toiles qui font signe aux enfants d\u2019\u00eatre sages,
\nCes apparitions, ces \u00e9blouissements !
\nDonc, \u00e0 l\u2019heure o\u00f9 les feux du soleil sont calmants,
\nQuand toute la nature \u00e9coute et se recueille,
\nVers midi, quand les nids se taisent, quand la feuille
\nLa plus tremblante oublie un instant de fr\u00e9mir,
\nJeanne a cette habitude aimable de dormir ;
\nEt la m\u00e8re un moment respire et se repose,
\nCar on se lasse, m\u00eame \u00e0 servir une rose.
\nSes beaux petits pieds nus dont le pas est peu s\u00fbr
\nDorment ; et son berceau, qu\u2019entoure un vague azur
\nAinsi qu\u2019une aur\u00e9ole entoure une immortelle,
\nSemble un nuage fait avec de la dentelle ;
\nOn croit, en la voyant dans ce frais berceau-l\u00e0,
\nVoir une lueur rose au fond d\u2019un falbala ;
\nOn la contemple, on rit, on sent fuir la tristesse,
\nEt c\u2019est un astre, ayant de plus la petitesse ;
\nL\u2019ombre, amoureuse d\u2019elle, a l\u2019air de l\u2019adorer ;
\nLe vent retient son souffle et n\u2019ose respirer.
\nSoudain, dans l\u2019humble et chaste alc\u00f4ve maternelle,
\nVersant tout le matin qu\u2019elle a dans sa prunelle,
\nElle ouvre la paupi\u00e8re, \u00e9tend un bras charmant,
\nAgite un pied, puis l\u2019autre, et, si divinement
\nQue des fronts dans l\u2019azur se penchent pour l\u2019entendre,
\nElle gazouille\u2026 \u2014 Alors, de sa voix la plus tendre,
\nCouvrant des yeux l\u2019enfant que Dieu fait rayonner,
\nCherchant le plus doux nom qu\u2019elle puisse donner
\n\u00c0 sa joie, \u00e0 son ange en fleur, \u00e0 sa chim\u00e8re :
\n\u2014 Te voil\u00e0 r\u00e9veill\u00e9e, horreur ! lui dit sa m\u00e8re.<\/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":[443],"poems-book":[447],"poemes-theme":[],"poete":[206],"class_list":["post-9687","poemes","type-poemes","status-publish","hentry","annee-443","poems-book-lart-detre-grand-pere","poete-victor-hugo"],"yoast_head":"\n