And traces with a slender finger

Upon its damp opacity,

The mystic monogram, O. E.

[Note 44: The samovar, i.e. "self-boiler," is merely an urn for hot water having a fire in the center. We may observe a similar contrivance in our own old-fashioned tea-urns which are provided with a receptacle for a red-hot iron cylinder in center. The tea-pot is usually placed on the top of the samovar.]

XL.

In the meantime her spirit sinks,

Her weary eyes are filled with tears -

A horse's hoofs she hears - She shrinks!

Nearer they come - Eugene appears!

Ah! than a spectre from the dead

More swift the room Tattiana fled,

From hall to yard and garden flies,

Not daring to cast back her eyes.

She fears and like an arrow rushes

Through park and meadow, wood and brake,

The bridge and alley to the lake,

Brambles she snaps and lilacs crushes,

The flowerbeds skirts, the brook doth meet,

Till out of breath upon a seat

XLI.

She sank. -

"He's here! Eugene is here!

Merciful God, what will he deem?"

Yet still her heart, which torments tear,

Guards fondly hope's uncertain dream.

She waits, on fire her trembling frame -

Will he pursue? - But no one came.

She heard of servant-maids the note,

Who in the orchards gathered fruit,

Singing in chorus all the while.

(This by command; for it was found,

However cherries might abound,

They disappeared by stealth and guile,

So mouths they stopt with song, not fruit -

Device of rural minds acute!)