Yet curses on his fate bestowing,

Is full of frigid jealousy,

Mute, solemn, frowning gloomily.

Such am I. This did ye expect,

When in simplicity ye wrote

Your innocent and charming note

With so much warmth and intellect?

Hath fate apportioned unto thee

This lot in life with stern decree?

X.

"Ideas and time ne'er backward move;

My soul I cannot renovate -

I love you with a brother's love,

Perchance one more affectionate.

Listen to me without disdain.

A maid hath oft, may yet again

Replace the visions fancy drew;

Thus trees in spring their leaves renew

As in their turn the seasons roll.

'Tis evidently Heaven's will

You fall in love again. But still -

Learn to possess more self-control.

Not all will like myself proceed -

And thoughtlessness to woe might lead."

XI.

Thus did our friend Oneguine preach:

Tattiana, dim with tears her eyes,

Attentive listened to his speech,

All breathless and without replies.

His arm he offers. Mute and sad

(Mechanically, let us add),

Tattiana doth accept his aid;

And, hanging down her head, the maid

Around the garden homeward hies.