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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.