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

In groups, official striplings glance Conceitedly on Tania fair, And views amongst themselves advance Unfavourable unto her.But one buffoon unhappy deemed Her the ideal which he dreamed, And leaning 'gainst the portal closed To her an elegy composed.Also one Viazemski, remarking Tattiana by a poor aunt's side, Successfully to please her tried, And an old gent the poet marking By Tania, smoothing his peruke, To ask her name the trouble took.[79]

XLVII

But where Melpomene doth rave With lengthened howl and accent loud, And her bespangled robe doth wave Before a cold indifferent crowd, And where Thalia softly dreams And heedless of approval seems, Terpsichore alone among Her sisterhood delights the young (So 'twas with us in former years, In your young days and also mine), Never upon my heroine The jealous dame her lorgnette veers, The connoisseur his glances throws From boxes or from stalls in rows.

XLVIII

To the assembly her they bear. There the confusion, pressure, heat, The crash of music, candles' glare And rapid whirl of many feet, The ladies' dresses airy, light, The motley moving mass and bright, Young ladies in a vasty curve, To strike imagination serve.'Tis there that arrant fops display Their insolence and waistcoats white And glasses unemployed all night; Thither hussars on leave will stray To clank the spur, delight the fair— And vanish like a bird in air.

XLIX

Full many a lovely star hath night And Moscow many a beauty fair: Yet clearer shines than every light The moon in the blue atmosphere.And she to whom my lyre would fain, Yet dares not, dedicate its strain, Shines in the female firmament Like a full moon magnificent.Lo! with what pride celestial Her feet the earth beneath her press! Her heart how full of gentleness, Her glance how wild yet genial!Enough, enough, conclude thy lay— For folly's dues thou hadst to pay.

L

Noise, laughter, bowing, hurrying mixt, Gallop, mazurka, waltzing—see! A pillar by, two aunts betwixt, Tania, observed by nobody, Looks upon all with absent gaze And hates the world's discordant ways. 'Tis noisome to her there: in thought Again her rural life she sought, The hamlet, the poor villagers, The little solitary nook Where shining runs the tiny brook, Her garden, and those books of hers, And the lime alley's twilight dim Where the first time she met with him.

LI