Do me a favour and appear.

Will you?" - "Agreed." - "I thank you, friend,"

And saying this Vladimir drained

His cup unto his maiden dear.

Then touching Olga they depart

In fresh discourse. Such, love, thou art!

XL.

He was most gay. The happy date

In three weeks would arrive for them;

The secrets of the marriage state

And love's delicious diadem

With rapturous longing he awaits,

Nor in his dreams anticipates

Hymen's embarrassments, distress,

And freezing fits of weariness.

Though we, of Hymen foes, meanwhile,

In life domestic see a string

Of pictures painful harrowing,

A novel in Lafontaine's style,

My wretched Lenski's fate I mourn,

He seemed for matrimony born.

XLI.

He was beloved: or say at least,

He thought so, and existence charmed.

The credulous indeed are blest,

And he who, jealousy disarmed,

In sensual sweets his soul doth steep

As drunken tramps at nightfall sleep,

Or, parable more flattering,

As butterflies to blossoms cling.

But wretched who anticipates,

Whose brain no fond illusions daze,

Who every gesture, every phrase

In true interpretation hates: