Eugene Onegin ( without commentary )

102
Chapter One
XVI

'Tis dark by now. He gets into a sleigh. The cry "Way, way!" resounds. With frostdust silvers 4 his beaver collar. To Talon's4 he has dashed off: he is certain that there already waits for him [Kaverin] $ has entered-and the cork goes ceilingward, 8 the flow of comet wine spurts forth, a bloody roast beef is before him, and truffles, luxury of youthful years, the best flower of French cookery, 12 and a decayless Strasbourg pie between a living Limburg cheese and a golden ananas.