XXXVII

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XXXVII

I will with thy divinity

Contend with knife and fork and platter,

But grant with magnanimity

I’m beaten in another matter;

Thy heroes, sanguinary wights,

Also thy rough-and-tumble fights,

Thy Venus and thy Jupiter,

More advantageously appear

Than cold Onegin’s oddities,

The aspect of a landscape drear.

Or e’en Istòmina, my dear,

And fashion’s gay frivolities;

But my Tattiana, on my soul,

Is sweeter than thy Helen foul.