XLII
Absorbed in melancholy mood
And o’er the granite coping bent,
Onegin meditative stood,
E’en as the poet says he leant.
’Tis silent all! Alone the cries
Of the night sentinels arise
And from the Millionaya afar
The sudden rattling of a car.
Lo! on the sleeping river borne,
A boat with splashing oar floats by,
And now we hear delightedly
A jolly song and distant horn;
But sweeter in a midnight dream
Torquato Tasso’s strains I deem.