XLII

3 0 00

XLII

“Onegin, I was younger then,

And better, if I judge aright;

I loved you⁠—what did I obtain?

Affection how did you requite?

But with austerity!⁠—for you

No novelty⁠—is it not true?⁠—

Was the meek love a maiden feels.

But now⁠—my very blood congeals,

Calling to mind your icy look

And sermon⁠—but in that dread hour

I blame not your behaviour⁠—

An honourable course ye took,

Displayed a noble rectitude⁠—

My soul is filled with gratitude!