than a spectre from the dead
More swift the room Tattiana fled,
From hall to yard and garden flies,
Not daring to cast back her eyes.
More swift the room Tattiana fled,
From hall to yard and garden flies,
Not daring to cast back her eyes.
Pushkin - Eugene Oneigin
"--
Tattiana blushed, her heart beat quick--
"He promised here this day to ride,"
Lenski unto the dame replied,
"The post hath kept him, it is like. "
Shamefaced, Tattiana downward looked
As if he cruelly had joked!
XXXIX
'Twas dusk! Upon the table bright
Shrill sang the _samovar_ at eve,(44)
The china teapot too ye might
In clouds of steam above perceive.
Into the cups already sped
By Olga's hand distributed
The fragrant tea in darkling stream,
And a boy handed round the cream.
Tania doth by the casement linger
And breathes upon the chilly glass,
Dreaming of what not, pretty lass,
And traces with a slender finger
Upon its damp opacity,
The mystic monogram, O. E.
[Note 44: The _samovar_, i. e. "self-boiler," is merely an
urn for hot water having a fire in the center. We may observe
a similar contrivance in our own old-fashioned tea-urns which
are provided with a receptacle for a red-hot iron cylinder in
center. The tea-pot is usually placed on the top of the
_samovar_. ]
XL
In the meantime her spirit sinks,
Her weary eyes are filled with tears--
A horse's hoofs she hears--She shrinks!
Nearer they come--Eugene appears!
Ah!
than a spectre from the dead
More swift the room Tattiana fled,
From hall to yard and garden flies,
Not daring to cast back her eyes.
She fears and like an arrow rushes
Through park and meadow, wood and brake,
The bridge and alley to the lake,
Brambles she snaps and lilacs crushes,
The flowerbeds skirts, the brook doth meet,
Till out of breath upon a seat
XLI
She sank. --
"He's here! Eugene is here!
Merciful God, what will he deem? "
Yet still her heart, which torments tear,
Guards fondly hope's uncertain dream.
She waits, on fire her trembling frame--
Will he pursue? --But no one came.
She heard of servant-maids the note,
Who in the orchards gathered fruit,
Singing in chorus all the while.
(This by command; for it was found,
However cherries might abound,
They disappeared by stealth and guile,
So mouths they stopt with song, not fruit--
Device of rural minds acute! )
The Maidens' Song
Young maidens, fair maidens,
Friends and companions,
Disport yourselves, maidens,
Arouse yourselves, fair ones.
Come sing we in chorus
The secrets of maidens.
Allure the young gallant
With dance and with song.
As we lure the young gallant,
Espy him approaching,
Disperse yourselves, darlings,
And pelt him with cherries,
With cherries, red currants,
With raspberries, cherries.
Approach not to hearken
To secrets of virgins,
Approach not to gaze at
The frolics of maidens.
XLII
They sang, whilst negligently seated,
Attentive to the echoing sound,
Tattiana with impatience waited
Until her heart less high should bound--
Till the fire in her cheek decreased;
But tremor still her frame possessed,
Nor did her blushes fade away,
More crimson every moment they.
Tattiana blushed, her heart beat quick--
"He promised here this day to ride,"
Lenski unto the dame replied,
"The post hath kept him, it is like. "
Shamefaced, Tattiana downward looked
As if he cruelly had joked!
XXXIX
'Twas dusk! Upon the table bright
Shrill sang the _samovar_ at eve,(44)
The china teapot too ye might
In clouds of steam above perceive.
Into the cups already sped
By Olga's hand distributed
The fragrant tea in darkling stream,
And a boy handed round the cream.
Tania doth by the casement linger
And breathes upon the chilly glass,
Dreaming of what not, pretty lass,
And traces with a slender finger
Upon its damp opacity,
The mystic monogram, O. E.
[Note 44: The _samovar_, i. e. "self-boiler," is merely an
urn for hot water having a fire in the center. We may observe
a similar contrivance in our own old-fashioned tea-urns which
are provided with a receptacle for a red-hot iron cylinder in
center. The tea-pot is usually placed on the top of the
_samovar_. ]
XL
In the meantime her spirit sinks,
Her weary eyes are filled with tears--
A horse's hoofs she hears--She shrinks!
Nearer they come--Eugene appears!
Ah!
than a spectre from the dead
More swift the room Tattiana fled,
From hall to yard and garden flies,
Not daring to cast back her eyes.
She fears and like an arrow rushes
Through park and meadow, wood and brake,
The bridge and alley to the lake,
Brambles she snaps and lilacs crushes,
The flowerbeds skirts, the brook doth meet,
Till out of breath upon a seat
XLI
She sank. --
"He's here! Eugene is here!
Merciful God, what will he deem? "
Yet still her heart, which torments tear,
Guards fondly hope's uncertain dream.
She waits, on fire her trembling frame--
Will he pursue? --But no one came.
She heard of servant-maids the note,
Who in the orchards gathered fruit,
Singing in chorus all the while.
(This by command; for it was found,
However cherries might abound,
They disappeared by stealth and guile,
So mouths they stopt with song, not fruit--
Device of rural minds acute! )
The Maidens' Song
Young maidens, fair maidens,
Friends and companions,
Disport yourselves, maidens,
Arouse yourselves, fair ones.
Come sing we in chorus
The secrets of maidens.
Allure the young gallant
With dance and with song.
As we lure the young gallant,
Espy him approaching,
Disperse yourselves, darlings,
And pelt him with cherries,
With cherries, red currants,
With raspberries, cherries.
Approach not to hearken
To secrets of virgins,
Approach not to gaze at
The frolics of maidens.
XLII
They sang, whilst negligently seated,
Attentive to the echoing sound,
Tattiana with impatience waited
Until her heart less high should bound--
Till the fire in her cheek decreased;
But tremor still her frame possessed,
Nor did her blushes fade away,
More crimson every moment they.
