Eugene Oneguine [Onegin]. A Romance of Russian Life in Verse

I write to you! Is more required? Can lower depths beyond remain? 'Tis in your power now, if desired, To crush me with a just disdain.But if my lot unfortunate You in the least commiserate You will not all abandon me. At first, I clung to secrecy:Believe me, of my present shame You never would have heard the name, If the fond hope I could have fanned At times, if only once a week, To see you by our fireside stand, To listen to the words you speak, Address to you one single phrase And then to meditate for days 

Of one thing till again we met.'Tis said you are a misanthrope, In country solitude you mope, And we—an unattractive set— Can hearty welcome give alone. Why did you visit our poor place? Forgotten in the village lone, I never should have seen your face And bitter torment never known.The untutored spirit's pangs calmed down By time (who can anticipate?) I had found my predestinate, Become a faithful wife and e'en A fond and careful mother been.Another! to none other I My heart's allegiance can resign, My doom has been pronounced on high, 

'Tis Heaven's will and I am thine.The sum of my existence gone But promise of our meeting gave, I feel thou wast by God sent down My guardian angel to the grave.Thou didst to me in dreams appear, Unseen thou wast already dear.Thine eye subdued me with strange glance, I heard thy voice's resonance Long ago. Dream it cannot be! Scarce hadst thou entered thee I knew, I flushed up, stupefied I grew, And cried within myself: 'tis he! Is it not truth? in tones suppressed With thee I conversed when I bore Comfort and succour to the poor, 

And when I prayer to Heaven addressed To ease the anguish of my breast.Nay! even as this instant fled, Was it not thou, O vision bright, That glimmered through the radiant night And gently hovered o'er my head?Was it not thou who thus didst stoop To whisper comfort, love and hope?Who art thou? Guardian angel sent Or torturer malevolent?Doubt and uncertainty decide: All this may be an empty dream, Delusions of a mind untried, Providence otherwise may deem— Then be it so! My destiny From henceforth I confide to thee!Lo! at thy feet my tears I pour 

And thy protection I implore. Imagine! Here alone am I! No one my anguish comprehends, At times my reason almost bends, And silently I here must die—But I await thee: scarce alive My heart with but one look revive; Or to disturb my dreams approach Alas! with merited reproach.'Tis finished. Horrible to read! With shame I shudder and with dread— But boldly I myself resign: Thine honour is my countersign!

XXXIV