XLII

4 0 00

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.