And dream of life's delightful dawn?

XVII.

The house is crammed. A thousand lamps

On pit, stalls, boxes, brightly blaze,

Impatiently the gallery stamps,

The curtain now they slowly raise.

Obedient to the magic strings,

Brilliant, ethereal, there springs

Forth from the crowd of nymphs surrounding

Istomina(*) the nimbly-bounding;

With one foot resting on its tip

Slow circling round its fellow swings

And now she skips and now she springs

Like down from Aeolus's lip,

Now her lithe form she arches o'er

And beats with rapid foot the floor.

[Note: Istomina - A celebrated Circassian dancer of the day, with whom the poet in his extreme youth imagined himself in love.]

XVIII.

Shouts of applause! Oneguine passes

Between the stalls, along the toes;

Seated, a curious look with glasses

On unknown female forms he throws.

Free scope he yields unto his glance,

Reviews both dress and countenance,

With all dissatisfaction shows.

To male acquaintances he bows,

And finally he deigns let fall

Upon the stage his weary glance.

He yawns, averts his countenance,

Exclaiming, "We must change 'em all!

I long by ballets have been bored,

Now Didelot scarce can be endured!"

XIX.

Snakes, satyrs, loves with many a shout

Across the stage still madly sweep,

Whilst the tired serving-men without