.Sois sage, ô ma douler, et-tiens toi plus tranquille.
Tu réclamas le soir; il descend; le voici:
Une atmosphère obscure enveloppe la ville,
Aux uns portant la paix, aux autres le souci.
Pendant que des mortels la multitude vile,
Sous le fouet du plaisir, ce borreau sans m.
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