XXI
He quits the fashionable throng
And meditative homeward goes,
Visions, now sad, now grateful, long
Do agitate his late repose.
He quits the fashionable throng
And meditative homeward goes,
Visions, now sad, now grateful, long
Do agitate his late repose.
Pushkin - Eugene Oneigin
"--"So.
And dost thou know her? "--"We live near. "
"Then come with me. " The prince proceeds,
His wife approaches, with him leads
His relative and friend as well.
The lady's glance upon him fell--
And though her soul might be confused,
And vehemently though amazed
She on the apparition gazed,
No signs of trouble her accused,
A mien unaltered she preserved,
Her bow was easy, unreserved.
XIX
Ah no! no faintness her attacked
Nor sudden turned she red or white,
Her brow she did not e'en contract
Nor yet her lip compressed did bite.
Though he surveyed her at his ease,
Not the least trace Oneguine sees
Of the Tattiana of times fled.
He conversation would have led--
But could not. Then she questioned him:--
"Had he been long here, and where from?
Straight from their province had he come? "--
Cast upwards then her eyeballs dim
Unto her husband, went away--
Transfixed Oneguine mine doth stay.
XX
Is this the same Tattiana, say,
Before whom once in solitude,
In the beginning of this lay,
Deep in the distant province rude,
Impelled by zeal for moral worth,
He salutary rules poured forth?
The maid whose note he still possessed
Wherein the heart its vows expressed,
Where all upon the surface lies,--
That girl--but he must dreaming be--
That girl whom once on a time he
Could in a humble sphere despise,
Can she have been a moment gone
Thus haughty, careless in her tone?
XXI
He quits the fashionable throng
And meditative homeward goes,
Visions, now sad, now grateful, long
Do agitate his late repose.
He wakes--they with a letter come--
The Princess N. will be at home
On such a day. O Heavens, 'tis she!
Oh! I accept. And instantly
He a polite reply doth scrawl.
What hath he dreamed? What hath occurred?
In the recesses what hath stirred
Of a heart cold and cynical?
Vexation? Vanity? or strove
Again the plague of boyhood--love?
XXII
The hours once more Oneguine counts,
Impatient waits the close of day,
But ten strikes and his sledge he mounts
And gallops to her house away.
Trembling he seeks the young princess--
Tattiana finds in loneliness.
Together moments one or two
They sat, but conversation's flow
Deserted Eugene.
And dost thou know her? "--"We live near. "
"Then come with me. " The prince proceeds,
His wife approaches, with him leads
His relative and friend as well.
The lady's glance upon him fell--
And though her soul might be confused,
And vehemently though amazed
She on the apparition gazed,
No signs of trouble her accused,
A mien unaltered she preserved,
Her bow was easy, unreserved.
XIX
Ah no! no faintness her attacked
Nor sudden turned she red or white,
Her brow she did not e'en contract
Nor yet her lip compressed did bite.
Though he surveyed her at his ease,
Not the least trace Oneguine sees
Of the Tattiana of times fled.
He conversation would have led--
But could not. Then she questioned him:--
"Had he been long here, and where from?
Straight from their province had he come? "--
Cast upwards then her eyeballs dim
Unto her husband, went away--
Transfixed Oneguine mine doth stay.
XX
Is this the same Tattiana, say,
Before whom once in solitude,
In the beginning of this lay,
Deep in the distant province rude,
Impelled by zeal for moral worth,
He salutary rules poured forth?
The maid whose note he still possessed
Wherein the heart its vows expressed,
Where all upon the surface lies,--
That girl--but he must dreaming be--
That girl whom once on a time he
Could in a humble sphere despise,
Can she have been a moment gone
Thus haughty, careless in her tone?
XXI
He quits the fashionable throng
And meditative homeward goes,
Visions, now sad, now grateful, long
Do agitate his late repose.
He wakes--they with a letter come--
The Princess N. will be at home
On such a day. O Heavens, 'tis she!
Oh! I accept. And instantly
He a polite reply doth scrawl.
What hath he dreamed? What hath occurred?
In the recesses what hath stirred
Of a heart cold and cynical?
Vexation? Vanity? or strove
Again the plague of boyhood--love?
XXII
The hours once more Oneguine counts,
Impatient waits the close of day,
But ten strikes and his sledge he mounts
And gallops to her house away.
Trembling he seeks the young princess--
Tattiana finds in loneliness.
Together moments one or two
They sat, but conversation's flow
Deserted Eugene.
