was I brought to a strange family. . . . “Thus You are not listening to what I say. . . .” nanny, I am grieving; grieving, nanny, “Ah, And I feel sick, and have felt sick all day; I am to sob, to tears give way! . . .” child you are unwell; oh Lord save us, “My I hope your illness is not dangerous. Holy water. . . . let us sprinkle. . . .” not ill, “I’m I’m. . . . you know, dear one, I’m. . . . I am in love.” child, dear child, may the Lord keep you still “My And pour upon you blessings from The kind old nurse her piety did prove; With her old flabby hand, with muttered prayer. She crossed the maid that was so much to her. XX am in love,” she whispered once again “I In piteous words to her old companion. heart, you are unwell; have you no pain?” “Dear am in love, and want to be alone.” “I Meanwhile the moonbeams through the window shone, And, by their pallid light illuminated, Tania’s languid beauty seemed translated. The moon, if curious, could have seen Her tear-stained cheeks and her unplaited hair, And by the bed of our young heroine An aged woman seated on a chair, Who strove to stem the current of despair; She wore a kerchief on her grey head, And words of consolation whisperd. XXI Then Tatiana, looking at the moon, Was flying in her thoughts far, far away. . . . But an idea to the maiden soon. . . . want to be alone; go, nanny, pray! “I Bring me a pen and paper, and them lay Upon the table. . . . push it to my bed; I want to be alone: goodnight.” she said. Now everything is still, she is alone. The moon shines on her, she begins to One name Evgenie through her mind doth run, A name to ring a heart and yet delight: What she then wrote in due course I will cite. What is this letter scribbled in gloom? For whom, my Tatiana, say, for whom?
“Thus was I brought to a strange family. . . . You are not listening to what I say. . . .” “Ah, nanny, I am grieving; grieving, nanny, And I feel sick, and have felt sick all day; I am to sob, to tears give way! . . .” “My child you are unwell; oh Lord save us, I hope your illness is not dangerous. Holy water. . . . let us sprinkle. . . .” “I’m not ill, I’m. . . . you know, dear one, I’m. . . . I am in love.” “My child, dear child, may the Lord keep you still And pour upon you blessings from The kind old nurse her piety did prove; With her old flabby hand, with muttered prayer. She crossed the maid that was so much to her. XX “I am in love,” she whispered once again In piteous words to her old companion. “Dear heart, you are unwell; have you no pain?” “I am in love, and want to be alone.” Meanwhile the moonbeams through the window shone, And, by their pallid light illuminated, Tania’s languid beauty seemed translated. The moon, if curious, could have seen Her tear-stained cheeks and her unplaited hair, And by the bed of our young heroine An aged woman seated on a chair, Who strove to stem the current of despair; She wore a kerchief on her grey head, And words of consolation whisperd. XXI Then Tatiana, looking at the moon, Was flying in her thoughts far, far away. . . . But an idea to the maiden soon. . . . “I want to be alone; go, nanny, pray! Bring me a pen and paper, and them lay Upon the table. . . . push it to my bed; I want to be alone: goodnight.” she said. Now everything is still, she is alone. The moon shines on her, she begins to One name Evgenie through her mind doth run, A name to ring a heart and yet delight: What she then wrote in due course I will cite. What is this letter scribbled in gloom? For whom, my Tatiana, say, for whom?
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