Eugene Onegin ( without commentary )

XIV

"But I'm not made for bliss$ my soul is strange to it; in vain are your perfections: 4 I'm not at all worthy of them. Believe me (conscience is thereof the pledge), wedlock to us would be a torment. However much I loved you, 8 having grown used, I'd cease to love at once; you would begin to weep5 your tears would fail to touch my heart- they merely would exasperate it. 12 Judge, then, what roses Hymen would lay in store for us- and, possibly, for many days!