And in the morning he won't know
What evening holds or where he'll go.
11
But having read Tatyana's letter,
Onegin was profoundly stirred:
Her maiden dreams had helped unfetter
A swarm of thoughts with every word;
And he recalled Tatyana's pallor,
Her mournful air, her touching valour
And then he soared, his soul alight
With sinless dreams of sweet delight.
Perhaps an ancient glow of passion
Possessed him for a moment's sway . . .
But never would he lead astray
A trusting soul in callous fashion.
And so let's hasten to the walk
Where he and Tanya had their talk.
12
Some moments passed in utter quiet,
And then Eugene approached and spoke:
'You wrote to me. Do not deny it.
I've read your words and they evoke
My deep respect for your emotion,
Your trusting soul. . . and sweet devotion.
Your candour has a great appeal
And stirs in me, I won't conceal,
Long dormant feelings, scarce remembered.
But I've no wish to praise you now;
Let me repay you with a vow
As artless as the one you tendered;
Hear my confession too, I plead,
And judge me both by word and deed.
13
'Had I in any way desired
To bind with family ties my life;
Or had a happy fate required
That I turn father, take a wife;
Had pictures of domestication
For but one moment held temptation
Then, surely, none but you alone
Would be the bride I'd make my own.
I'll say without wrought-up insistence
That, finding my ideal in you,
I would have asked youyes, it's true
To share my baneful, sad existence,
In pledge of beauty and of good,
And been as happy ... as I could!
14
'But I'm not made for exaltation:
My soul's a stranger to its call;
